


Lost and Found

by PaperThinRevolutionary (SingFortissimo), sunken_ships (sunken__ships)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton is a big ball of mental illness, Also T.Jeffs is a fucking asshole, Fluff, John Laurens does not have the time for dogs, M/M, PTSD, Slow Build, and he has a cute lil service dog to help him through it, anxiety and depression, but here he is, service dog, they're trying their best damnit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-06-04 12:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6657544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingFortissimo/pseuds/PaperThinRevolutionary, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunken__ships/pseuds/sunken_ships
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton is a mess, honestly, and his only true forms of solace lie in his writing and his service dog, Gilbert. </p><p>John Laurens is a scrub nurse with no time to spare for the simple things. </p><p>Gilbert is going to ruin that for both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello hello! Welcome one and all to the collaborations of Sunken_Ships and PaperThinRevolutionary!!!  
> I've written Alexander's bits, and Sunken_Ships has written John's bits! We hope you enjoy it <3

Alexander Hamilton would never admit that he was a lonely man. That would be like admitting that Thomas Jefferson wrote better articles than him, which was so far from true. As far as Alexander was concerned, Jefferson had his boot in his mouth and his head so far up his own ass, it was a god-given miracle that his articles were even printed. Insults were frequently thrown about between the two men, rather intense ones, too, yet they both managed to keep their job at Time, both staying in their important seats and writing political articles. Alexander wrote day and night, whether it was for his own blog or for the magazine. There was always something going on with him, he always had something to say, and lately a lot of it was about “that goddamn trash journalism of Jefferson’s that they keep printing.” His insults would get worse by the day (they were always met with something equal, though), and the break room was a war zone whenever Alexander and Jefferson would happen in at the same time. 

Which just so happened to be…

Now. 

“Your article was trash, Jefferson. My dog speaks more eloquently than you.” Alexander hissed over his coffee, shooting a cold glare across the room. 

“You know what Hamilton—”

“That is ENOUGH.” A sharp voice shot through the room, and both men froze, chills going down their spine. 

“Sir!” Both men turned around, looking to see the man in the doorway, Time Magazine’s editor-in-chief, George Washington. He loomed over the two men with a no nonsense glower. 

“Hamilton, Jefferson, we have been over this. Civility is key, and I will _not tolerate in-fighting._ Understood?”

With only a sour look exchanged, the two men nodded. “Yessir.” Both tones were defeated. Alexander took what he needed for his coffee (one cream, five sugars) and left the break room in a huff to return to his desk. Thank God it was on the opposite side of the office as Jefferson’s (There had been a time when they were close by. Needless to say that was an immediate change). 

Upon his return, Alexander was immediately back to work, headphones in and fingers flying on the keyboard. He had an article due later that evening, nothing out of the ordinary, just a little bit of political discourse what with the upcoming elections. There was always something to say, and Alexander Hamilton would be damned if he wasn’t the one saying it. 

The words flowed like water through him and into the document, soon becoming more than even he expected. A simple comparison of the candidates becoming a long and detailed analysis of them all. Surely Washington would love this. He may even make the cover with this one, and that was more than enough to fuel Hamilton in his efforts, the thought of getting his third cover story in as many months when Jefferson had now gone five without even being suggested for one… What a beautiful idea. 

Putting that aside, though, other than the earlier blunder, Alexander was having a good day. He wrote like he was running out of time, but what was new? Everything was where it needed to be, his article was almost finished, and he still had enough time on the clock to finish it with absolutely no worry in his mind. 

He was distracted about an hour into the final stretch when Angelica Schuyler, one of the only other journalists he truly enjoyed, arrived at his desk with another coffee. She leaned against the wall after setting it by his keyboard, offhandedly noting that “oh, you finished yours a while ago.”

Alexander smiled, her name escaping his lips on a breath. “Angelica Schuyler, you are an angel…” He raised the cup to his lips and smiled to her, taking a sip and letting out a small contented noise. Angelica sat on the corner of his desk. 

“You know I could hear you and Thomas screaming from my desk.” She stated. That was quite a feat, considering she was a floor down and on the other side of the building. Alexander’s cheeks heated a little and he shrugged. 

“That son of a bitch was off on some stupid tangent again and I couldn’t handle it. He can’t even form a coherent thought without tripping over his tongue.” 

“Yes, I assumed by you claiming your dog’s eloquence.” Angelica deadpanned, causing Alexander to laugh. “You really do need to relax a bit more when it comes to that, you know. You may have Washington on your side, but the other editors aren’t happy. I can’t tell if they’re tired of your voice or tired of you singing Gilbert’s praises.” 

“Jay can’t do anything to me. Neither can Adams. Washington is the head of everything and he won’t listen to them. You know it as well as I do. Besides, Gilbert deserves it.” His eyes went to the photo of his dog pinned to the cubicle wall. 

“All I’m saying, Alexander, is you need to keep yourself in check for a while. Because I’m tired of hearing about how much of a brat you’re being.” She poked his cheek as she said ‘brat’, causing Alexander to puff up.

“Rude!” 

“But true.” 

With that, Angelica blew him a kiss and went on her merry way, leaving Alexander to finish his writing. It wasn’t long before he finished his article and it was ready to go to the editor’s desk, so with that in mind, he sent it out and clocked out, finishing his coffee quickly and grabbing his book-bag, shoving whatever he needed for the night into it. He was quick to leave after that, pausing only to pop his head into Angelica’s cubicle and bid her farewell. 

He had quite a bit of his own writing to get done that night, so on the way home he stopped to grab another coffee (he had already lost count for the day, but it was fine), and some cheap thing that he could pass off as dinner, grabbing a treat for Gilbert.

The walk home was always pleasant this time of year. He liked spring in Manhattan, even though it meant bundling up in the morning and dying by the evening. He could get used to that, he had done it every year since immigrating and he would continue to do it. It was all part of the routine. The chill that day was a little worse than usual though, and he had to tug his sweater on halfway home. 

By the time he had stepped foot on his own block, something felt undeniably wrong. He picked up his pace and hurried into his apartment, not greeted by anything but a biting silence. He felt his heart in his throat and his head spinning. “Gilbert?” He called out. 

He didn’t hear anything. 

His skin went cold. 

Okay, maybe he was asleep. Yeah, that had to be it. He was asleep. Alexander tossed his bag onto the sofa and rushed the bedroom. It was empty as far as he could tell. He peeked under the bed to find nothing of interest. He turned on his heels after standing up, whipping open the closed bathroom door in hopes that maybe Gil had gotten stuck in there somehow after he left. 

No such luck. 

Alexander rushed around wherever he could think, opening every door and looking wherever he could for Gilbert. He was nowhere to be seen. He must have gotten out somehow. Alexander felt ill. He sat on the sofa and held his head in his hands. One of the only stabilities in his life was missing and he could feel everything crumbling. Without Gilbert around, there wasn’t much that could keep him from panicking. After all, that was why he had gotten Gilbert. 

It had taken years for him to convince himself into therapy, and when he finally managed, he was diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and PTSD. Quite the winning triad, he thought offhandedly when he was told, and when asked his options from there, he was told that he could take medication (“I barely remember to eat most of the time, I won’t remember to take pills”), keep coming to therapy (“I guess that’s worth a try”), and possibly look into a service pet that could bring him out of his panic attacks, break him before his bouts of PTSD got too bad, and calm him whenever there was a storm (“Now that idea I like. Tell me more about that.”)

His landlord took no convincing on the matter, as a veteran of the war who suffered PTSD himself, a man with a therapy pet of his own. Benjamin Tallmadge was happy to accommodate Alexander in any way that he could, since he understood the issues he faced firsthand. “Besides,” he said with a smile when Alexander mentioned it, “if you get a dog, Bolton will have someone to play with.” He gestured to the pit bull sitting comfortably by his side, and he began wagging his tail. Alexander liked that thought, it put his mind at ease. 

It wasn’t long after that until he had done the research, the paperwork, and found puppies in the area who had already gone through certification to be service animals, and within that week, he found himself with a small poodle pup whom he named Gilbert. The dog almost never left his side, save when he went to work (he never had attacks at work. Jefferson kept him too distracted and angry to let his mind wander enough, not to mention all of his work.) Of course, he did have his bad days that Gilbert would accompany him to the office. Gilbert loved those days. 

He had gotten Gilbert 3 and a half years ago, and they had almost never been apart since then. Now, he could feel all of that emptiness from before coming back to him. 

Alexander Hamilton would never admit that he was a lonely man. That was until he realised that Gilbert, his only companion, and as sad as it was, his only true friend, was missing. 

~

John Laurens lived alone, apart from his tortoise. That was fine. Some human company every now and again wouldn’t have hurt – coming from a family with five children, he’d grown up with always having someone to talk to, whether he’d wanted to or not – but, by and large, he’d gotten used to the silence. It was nice to not have to be around others after long days at the hospital. John loved working as a scrub nurse, but _man_ was it draining.

As usual, he almost nodded off on the bus on the way home from work, but managed to stay awake thanks to the music he blasted in his headphones. One week it had gotten so bad that he’d downloaded a horror movie, thinking that the jump scares would jolt him awake. It had worked, but a little too well – he hadn’t been able to sleep even when he’d _wanted_ to.

So now he gifted himself with Gwen Stefani’s _Hollaback Girl_ , each defined drumbeat acting almost as a defibrillator for his brain. When the bus finally rolled around to his stop, he staggered out with a mumbled, “Thanks,” and began making his way home, feeling the cool night air clear his head somewhat.

He was just lamenting the fact that, fucking hell, he still had to make something to eat when he got home before he could get into bed, when his foot caught on something, and he barely had time to stick his hands out – yanking his headphones out accidentally as he did so – before he thudded to the concrete. There was a loud squeal next to him – a yelp? – and the sound of something skittering back.

John sat back on his behind, groaning a little as he squinted at the damage on his hands. Just minor scrapes, and no bl– whoops, scratch that, a little bleeding. John made a sound of irritation in the back of his throat. “Fucking…” This was going to be a pain in the ass tomorrow.

He felt something nuzzle at his elbow and he jerked away. It was a dog. Did he… Had he really just tripped over a dog?

“Fuck you,” he grumbled as the dog sat back on its haunches and let out a small whine. He presented his wounded hands to it. “Look what you did.”

The dog seemed unbothered. It wiggled a little, front feet tapping on the pavement in quick succession, and whined again.

John carefully brushed his hands off and got to his feet. “Go home,” he said to the dog. “Go get yourself under somebody else’s feet.”

He continued walking home, shoving his headphones back in. Great, he’d missed most of _Miss Jackson_. It was his favourite Panic! At The Disco song. He sighed and took it back to the start.

It was only when he reached his apartment that he realised the dog had followed him home. He threw his hands in the air in exasperation, and took out one of his headphones. “Go home,” he said, slowly, as if that would make the dog understand. “You’re not my dog. I don’t have a dog. I don’t need a dog.”

The dog wagged its tail and whimpered.

John could feel his resolve crumbling. It was a pretty cute dog. And dogs were pretty great in general. He’d always wanted one growing up.

But he was not going to just take in someone else’s… Wait. “You don’t have a collar,” John noted.

Okay then – he was not going to just take in a _stray_ dog. That would literally be the worst idea. He already had a pet, anyway; he didn’t need another.

John stared at the dog. The dog stared at him. It wasn’t exactly small. Chocolate brown, curly fur. Floppy ears. It didn’t _look_ like a stray. It looked perfectly healthy, in fact. Very well looked-after.

So, it was someone else’s dog, then. Even so, John’s point still stood.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. The dog said nothing. It leant forward and sniffed John’s knee.

John breathed out hard through his nose. “You can’t… I can’t take you in, all right? I don’t think this place even allows pets. And definitely not pets as big as you.”

The dog sat down, its right front paw happening to land on top of John’s foot. John glared at the paw. It was so small in comparison to his foot. It would be impossible to find shoes in its size.

_That’s ridiculous_ , John thought. _Dogs don’t even wear shoes._

He rubbed at his eye. “I’m too tired for this shit,” he mumbled. He pointed a stern finger at the dog. “Go home, buddy. Your owner’s probably worried about you.”

The dog blinked up at him.

John groaned. “Ugh, fine. _One_ night, okay? And you’re sleeping in the bathroom.”

He opened the door to his apartment and stepped inside. The dog hesitated, and John gestured for it to enter. “Well? Do you want a formal invitation?”

The dog trotted inside. John closed the door behind them both.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there, it's sunken_ships, and we're back! thank u so much everyone for the love and support we've gotten so far - we're both over the moon! enjoy chapter two x

The next day at work, Hamilton was quiet. Honest to god quiet.  He barely looked up from his computer all day, typing madly as the hours flew by. He was back and forth from document to document, no different than normal, but the office was quiet.  None of his co-workers were complaining, though. Hamilton’s usual intensity was muted, it was nice having a quiet day.

The minute that he was allowed to go on his lunch break, he flew out the door without a word. In his panic, he had made posters to find his beloved Gilbert, and when he clocked out, he was all over the city hanging them wherever he could. They were simple enough, like any other ‘lost dog’ poster:

 

_LOST SERVICE DOG_

_Gilbert (pronounced jee-bare)._

_Standard poodle, approx. 65lbs.  4 years old._

_Dark brown eyes, brown curly fur._

_Responds to Gil, Gilbert._

_Contact A. Hamilton if found_

_$1000 REWARD_

 

followed by his phone number, email address, and a photo of Gilbert, the most recent one that Alexander had (it was only a few days old, Alexander was that dog owner who constantly took photos of his dog. Who could blame him? Gilbert was his best friend).

It was the most he could do, though, knowing that he had to be back at the office soon, and he promised Angelica to help with one of her columns that afternoon, before all of this happened. That was how he found himself in the breakroom again, tapping away at his laptop with Angelica.  He had left her a note before he went off, and one of the posters for Gilbert, explaining that he may be a little late (which he was, five minutes) and that he may not be himself that day. Angelica sent him a message on his phone saying she would share the poster of Gilbert with anyone she could and start to post things online to help find him. Alexander promised he would still help with her column.

So there they were, side by side, glancing at each other’s computers on occasion and stopping only to amend what the other had written.  They had quite the nice system down, and their workflow was amazing until there was an unwanted distraction.

Thomas Jefferson sauntered in like he owned the damn place, casting an irate glance at the pair. He greeted Angelica with all of the positivity he could muster, but nothing but a flat and bitter “Hamilton,” for the other. Alexander didn't even acknowledge him, outwardly at least, making himself too busy to truly respond. He needed to keep working or he would just keep thinking about Gil…

Of course, though, Thomas was not one to accept being ignored. So with coffee in hand, he came over to look at what they were doing. Alexander became more tense, but ignored it and leaned closer to his computer, trying to steady his breaths. He was going to lose his cool if Thomas took one more step…

So naturally, the Southerner did.

“What's the matter Hamilton? Cat got your tongue? More accurately, that dog of yours?”

Goddamn, he wanted to break his jaw. But he just clenched his own and kept typing. Jefferson damn near leaned into him, still muttering taunt after taunt until…

  
“Listen here you Francophile motherfucker! One more word and I will fucking _break you_ !” he snapped, slamming his hands onto the table and standing up, nearly launching himself at Thomas. He would have if Angelica didn't grab his hand, nearly anchoring him to her side. That didn't keep the insults from flying, though. “You think you're clever? Such a _fucking genius_ for coming at me when I'm down? Coming at the guy with the mile long list of fucked up in the head who just lost his service pet? Are you so goddamned pathetic that you'll wait for me to be like this before starting something? Because I will still _tear you apart, you fucking neurotypical piece of shit!”_

  
Angelica tugged Alexander closer to her when Jefferson backed off. She knew he had heard about Gilbert, and to pick a fight with Alexander at this moment… Not among his best decisions.

  
Jefferson tried to stand straight. He looked shell shocked. It wasn't pretty. “My god,” was all he managed to get out before he walked off. Alexander was nearly shaking with anger, and it took quite a bit for Angelica to talk him down again.

  
When Alexander came to, he blinked a few times as if registering where he was again. “I'm so sorry you had to see that.” He said to her, not able to bring himself to look at her. She squeezed his shoulder and gave a reassuring little smile.

  
“Honestly? That was brilliant. Easily your best tirade yet. But we might need to go to Washington before he does…”

  
Right, fuck.

  
Alexander saved his documents and took a deep breath. “I'm going to go, see if I can explain all of this before Thomas makes me out a villain.”

  
“Good plan. You've already got Washington on your side though. Just explain, I'm sure he’ll be sympathetic.”

  
Alexander nodded and excused himself. He didn't want sympathy. He just didn't want to lose his job. So he hurried to Washington's office and knocked at the door, being invited in soon and letting out a sigh of relief when he saw Jefferson wasn't there, and Washington was smiling at him.

  
“Alexander,” he said simply, gesturing to the empty seat across from his. Alexander remained standing behind it.

  
“Washington, sir. We, I…” He sucked in a deep breath. “We need to talk about Jefferson," he said quickly and kept his eyes downcast.  Washington raised a brow.

  
“Alright. Please, sit down.” Washington motioned to the seat once more. Alexander hesitated, but took it.

  
“Did Angelica tell you what happened?” Alexander asked first. Washington raised a brow. Apparently she hadn’t.  So Alexander bowed his head a bit. “Well, you see, um..."  How would he explain it... “Gilbert…” he began. Washington sat up a little straighter.  He had known about Gilbert since the day Alexander had brought him home.  

  
“Is everything alright with him?”

  
“He went missing last night. I’ve been on edge, I didn’t sleep, I’m sure it’s showing.” He gestured to the dark bags that he knew had returned under his aching eyes. Washington hummed and nodded his head a little. “I lost my temper because of it and I said some… unsavory things to Jefferson.  He pried into my business, I can guarantee you whatever he tells you later today… I don’t know what you’ll hear, but whatever it is, Jefferson started it. Angelica saw it all.”  

  
Washington rubbed his temples. “Care to recount what you said?”

  
Alexander tried to swallow down the lump in his throat.  It wasn’t working… “Well…”

  
It took him a few moments to recount it all, and he was sure to let Washington know everything Jefferson had said as well, but soon Washington was caught up. Alexander had told him what was said, nearly verbatim, but “For the sake of what little professionalism I have left, I’ll just say it was a lot more explicit than this, sir.” Washington was, as Angelica said he would be, more sympathetic than Alexander expected him to be.  He dismissed Alexander early, telling him to take the rest of the day to go and hang more posters, to do what he could to find Gilbert.

  
“And son,” he started. Alexander couldn’t find the energy to bite at him for that. “If you need to take any time off, or work from home for a while, just let me know. I’ll do my best to accommodate whatever you need.”

  
Alexander blinked and raised his brows. “Sir, I... Thank you.”

  
“Let me know if you need anything at all. I’ll have Angelica print more posters. We’re going to help you find him. Now go home, alright?”

  
“Thank you, sir,” Alexander repeated. With that, he was out the door, bag slung over his shoulder as he hurried outside.  He didn’t even take the time to acknowledge Jefferson, who was already waiting outside of Washington’s office.

 

~

 

John’s nightmare involved him waking up at midday to discover that he was hours late for work. It was a recurring one, and one that most often plagued him when he had the rare day off work. And, although, in the very back of his mind, he knew that it was a nightmare and not reality, it still filled him with panic.

Something wet and cold. Something wet and warm. Air puffing.

John started awake with a sharp cry, snatching his hand away from where it had been hanging over the edge of his bed. His eyes automatically went to the clock on his bedside table. It was fine. It was four o’clock in the morning, but it was fine. John ran through his week’s calendar in his mind. No work today. He could sleep in. It was okay. It was fine.

And there was a dog climbing onto his bed and laying down beside him, pressed up against his leg. “Um,” John said, “I don’t remember inviting you up here.”

He wiped his slobbery hand on his pyjama shirt, screwing up his nose. “That’s disgusting,” he said. “Why would you do that?”

The dog raised its head, and then rested its chin on John’s thigh.

“You look way too comfortable there, buddy,” John muttered. He frowned. “I thought I put you in the bathroom. How did you get in here?”

The dog did not react. It simply lay there.

John’s heart was still racing – from the surprise awakening or the nightmare, he didn’t know. Heaving a sigh, he lay down again, and stretched. He had to admit, it was kind of nice having a little – well, maybe not so little – heat pack beside him. Even if it would make his bed smell like dog.

The dog shuffled around, and settled down further up his body, now against his hip. John’s hand automatically went to its side, scratching it absentmindedly. The dog sighed. John drifted off to sleep once again.

When John woke, the dog was still on his bed, but it had moved to the other side. As soon as he opened his eyes, stretching, the dog was awake and on its feet, its tail sweeping left to right languidly. It snuffled into John’s neck, and John let out a croaky, “No…” and shrunk away.

Apparently satisfied, the dog collapsed next to him again, whining softly.

John looked at it. “Why do you insist on waking me up in horrible ways?”

He rolled his head to the side to check the time. Seven thirty. Much more reasonable.

Groaning, he hauled himself from bed, and padded to the kitchen, the dog following hot on his heels.

He ignored it.

  
He made sure to stop off in his living room, to visit his tortoise. “Morning, General,” he said, bending down to peer through the glass into the enclosure. The enclosure, a large wooden box with a glass front of no roof, sat on its very own table in the corner of the room, by the window.

  
General the tortoise made no appearance at first, hidden underneath its half-log hideaway. John changed the water in the bowl, the dog tapping after him the whole way, and just as he was fitting the bowl snuggly back in its spot, General poked his head out.

  
John broke out into a smile. “Here comes the general!” he announced as General made his way out and under the UV lights and heat lamps.

  
John rounded on the dog, jabbing a finger at it. “If you even so much as sniff General’s tank, you’ll be out of here so fast you won’t even know what’s happened.”

  
The dog just blinked. It showed no interest in General, only in John.

  
Somewhat satisfied but still wary, John went to the kitchen and put on some toast, and went about making coffee. The dog sat at the edge of the kitchen, watching him with what seemed to be contentment. But then again, it was hard to read a dog’s facial expressions. They didn’t really have many.

  
“Now,” John said to the dog, “today we’re gonna find out who you belong to, and we’re gonna take you home, so you can wake someone else up in the mornings."

  
The dog licked its lips.

  
John frowned. “When was the last time you ate?”

  
He went to the fridge and peered inside. “I don’t really have much,” he confessed. “And definitely no dog food. Uh…” He moved some things to the side. “How do you feel about two-day-old Chinese takeout? Can dogs eat Chinese takeout?”

  
He took the plastic box out of the fridge. The dog licked its lips again.

  
John squinted at it. “If you eat this, you’re not gonna shit everywhere, are you?”

  
The dog made no such promises.

  
John sighed. “Okay, maybe no to the takeout.” He put it back in the fridge. “I have some cans of tuna. What about that?”

  
The dog whined. John took it as a sign. He went to his cupboard and took out a can, peeling it open and dumping its contents into a bowl, which he set in front of the dog. As an afterthought, he filled a second bowl with water and placed it next to the first. The dog sniffed at the fish, and then chowed down.

  
John shrugged. “All right.”

  
He finished making his own breakfast and sat on the kitchen bench, sipping at his coffee. He watched the dog as it inspected his kitchen, sniffing every corner and crevice of the room. “Where’re you from, anyway?” he asked. “I mean, you’re super well-behaved, apart from the whole jumping-onto-my-bed thing. You haven’t peed or shit anywhere. You don’t bark at random things. I haven’t heard you bark at all, actually. Someone obviously loves you to death. So why’d you leave, huh? Teenage rebellion? Or… I don’t even know how old you are. Middle-age rebellion?”

  
The dog did not dignify him with a response.

 

  
The first problem John encountered with taking the dog out was the fact that he did not own a leash, or rope, or anything that he could use to keep the dog in check. But he quickly discovered that that didn’t matter – the dog trotted by his side.

  
They wandered around the neighbourhood. John knocked on doors and asked people in the street if they knew anything about the whereabouts of the owner of the dog.

  
No one said yes. But a few people mentioned that, judging from the way that the dog happily followed him around, it looked like it was _his_ dog.

  
And in the afternoon, John found himself in the local pet shop, glancing at the dog, who patiently waited outside, buying a collar and a leash and some food. Just a few days’ worth. Not much. And if he was going to babysit this dog for a while, he couldn’t have it running off again without a collar, could he?

  
“Damn expensive thing,” he muttered, but handed his credit card over without hesitation.

  
That night, John sat in front of the TV, picking at his dinner. General was basking in the UV lamps, shell-deep in his bowl of water. The dog had been fed, and was curled up beside him on the couch, dozing. When John dragged himself to bed, the dog followed, and made itself at home on top of the covers nearby.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello hello ladies and gents and all those in between or otherwise!  
> krys here, with chapter three! i am here to provide another sad chapter and more destruction of alexander's will! as per the norm of this fic, i have written alexander and sunken_ships has taken john <3 hope you enjoy!

Everything was falling apart. There were only three things holding Alexander together anymore. The only constants he had left in his life; his work, and Angelica and Eliza Schuyler. Gilbert had been gone for three days, and everything had taken a turn for the worse. Alexander wasn’t eating or sleeping, he was just… Writing. Up all day and night in his office writing, even after they closed the doors for the day. Finally, Washington put his foot down and sent Alexander home, demanding that he at least try to rest.

With a frown and a huff, Alexander packed up his papers and computers, leaving with averted eyes and a bowed head. Washington sighed and watched him leave, wishing that there was something more he could do. Everyone was already on high alert searching for Gilbert as it was…

In an attempt of normalcy, he went on with his normal routine. He went to the coffee shop, got his drink, a sad excuse for food that he wouldn’t eat anyway… His hand hesitated as it went over the dog treat he would normally grab. His breath caught in his throat. He grabbed it anyway in hopes that Gilbert would be home soon. He mustered a smile towards the barista then went home, biting his lip to keep from calling for the dog.

The place just seemed so empty now.

Alexander was quick to set up his little workstation at the kitchen table, papers scattered all about and laptop open to some word document that already had too many words. He was doing his best, goddamnit, and that was all that mattered in the moment. The more that he worked, the less he would think about Gilbert. He had already taken a day off of work to look for him, ask everyone he came across if they had seen him. It had done him no good.

He had made the mistakes of getting his hopes up when someone said the dog looked familiar, but they didn’t give him anything beyond that, other than a raised brow when he didn’t leave immediately.

Angelica had kept her promise, doing what she could in the efforts to recover Gilbert from wherever he could have been. She had started a social media campaign to find him. It hadn’t really worked out yet, there were a few tips, but nothing concrete. Eliza had taken her share of the efforts as well, contacting every shelter in the city. She had done so every day. Alexander never realized until then how lucky he was to have Eliza in his life. If there was one positive out of this whole mess, it was being able to bond with her.

Alexander tried to keep his mind on the Schuylers and his work more than anything else. He ignored the rumbling in his stomach that had turned to a painful jab every time it happened, he ignored the burning in his eyes and the pounding in his head. Nothing could break him out of his workflow, he wouldn’t let it, that was until he heard a loud boom outside. His entire body felt electric. Even knowing Gilbert wasn’t there, he began to look around for the dog, praying to whatever could possibly be out there that the dog was home, that he could stop this panic before it started.

There was no such luck.

Alexander felt his hands shaking, and he started to talk himself through it as Eliza had before Gilbert was in his life. _Deep breathing, Alexander. In. One, two, three, four, five. Okay now hold. Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco... Out. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix…_ He repeated this to himself a few times, hearing Eliza in his mind talking him down. She had learned early on that the different languages helped grab his attention, helped bring him back. It worked until the next roll of thunder boomed through the silent room. His chest felt tight and he could feel his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. The breathing wasn’t helping. Oh god.

The storm outside was getting worse, and he could hear the rain picking up. The wind shook the trees and rattled his windows. His body was quaking, aching, shaking. His mind was going fuzzy and everything was coming back to him.

Breathe.

Everything was destroyed. Shambles. Everything was _gone_. The only thing Alexander had anymore was himself. Everyone he knew was dead. The wind whipped harder, the rain came down heavier.

Breathe.

Trees had collapsed, power lines were down. There was smoke, even through the rain. He couldn’t describe the sounds even if he wanted to, or the smells. It was hell, actual hell on earth. Cars had been flipped, houses destroyed. Thunder rolled and crashed. Alexander felt like his chest was on fire.

_Breathe._

Bright flashes of light came to his eyes and he felt like he was blinded. His eyes already burned from the whipping salt water and wind bringing everything to the ground.

Everyone was dying.

Alexander couldn’t seem to die.

He curled in tighter on himself and felt himself begin to cry, his already soaking shirt becoming wet with his tears. He didn’t know how he hadn’t died. He should have died. His chest heaved in short and sharp bursts. His head was spinning, mind was swimming…

_**Goddamnit, Breathe!** _

“Breathe, Alexander, please! In. One, two, three, four, five.” That wasn’t in his head… “Hold. Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco…” He forced his eyes open. “Out. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix…”

_Eliza._

He blinked a few times, looking up with wet eyes, and before he could stop himself he was wrapped tight around Eliza. She held him and rubbed his back, still talking him through his breathing. It didn’t take long for him to relax enough to listen to her.

“I tried to get here sooner, Alexander, I’m so sorry.. Are you alright? Is there anything I can do?”

He only shook his head. She began to pet his hair, which had started to fall free of its bun at some point. She cupped his cheeks gently and kissed his forehead. “Alexander… Will you stay with me until we find Gilbert?” She asked softly. He looked up at her and reached up with a shaky hand to wipe his eyes.

“I don’t want to be a burden, Eliza. You’ve already done so much for me.” His voice trembled. Eliza had never heard him sound so timid and it honestly broke her heart. She rubbed their noses together a bit. Alexander relaxed and returned the gesture, looking at her with big eyes still.

“You are never a burden to me, Alexander…” She assured with a soft voice. He gave a small smile and held her tight again. Even without Gilbert to calm him, Eliza knew how to get him back to Earth.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, then… I would love to…”

Eliza nodded and pulled back, standing and offering her hands to Alexander. He didn't know when he ended up on the floor. “Come on, let’s go pack some clothes, then…” Alexander took her hands and stood, not letting go of her once he was to his feet. He let Eliza lead him blindly about his place, holding tight as if she would fade away, was just a part of his attack and he was still trapped in that nightmare. She kept squeezing his hand to assure him that she was really there.

Eliza Schuyler was the greatest friend Alexander ever could have asked for…

~

When John got home from work, the dog was there to greet him, wagging its – his, as John found out – tail. John said hello, checked on General, and went to the kitchen to grab a frozen meal from the freezer.

He leant against the counter, struggling to keep his eyes open as the butter chicken rotated painfully slowly in the microwave.

The dog sat at his feet, looking up at him. John sighed, and went to the fridge to grab the dog food.

He’d named the dog Hercules. It seemed to fit. And anyway, John couldn’t keep calling him ‘the dog’ or just ‘buddy’. The name had fallen into place the day before, after John had been cleaning up from his solo movie night. He’d just been puzzling over what he could call the dog – because, let’s be real, if the dog had decided at this point that he _still_ wanted to stick around, then John wasn’t going to turn him away – when its tail had swept across the coffee table, knocking down the DVD of Disney’s _Hercules_.

John had picked up the DVD case, looked at it, looked at the dog, and shrugged. “Well,” he’d said decidedly, “if that’s not a sign from the Universe, I don’t know what is.”

And so ‘Hercules the dog’ it was.

“This is like in the movies,” John said as Hercules tucked into his dinner. “Y’know, the whole ‘the dog picks you’ kind of thing. Like in Harry Potter. You’re the wand, and I’m the wizard you chose.” He frowned. “Unless I’m like the Elder Wand.” He put his dinner down on the kitchen bench and crouched down in front of Hercules, who ignored him. “Your last owner didn’t die, did they, Hercules?”

Hercules glanced up at him, licked his lips, and then went back to eating.

John huffed and returned to his own dinner. “Well, now you’re just making it look like you ate them.” He squinted. “You better not have eaten them.”

Hercules polished off his dinner and looked up at John again, wagging his tail. John cocked his head. “Oh, you need to go outside now, do you? No ‘thanks for dinner, John’? No ‘that was nice, I can see you spent a lot of money on my food’?”

Hercules whined. John went to the front door and let him out, leaving the door open and going to visit General. “It’s nice that you don’t need to be let out to go to the bathroom,” he said, even though General was hiding. He took a bite of his dinner. “So, what do you think of him? He hasn’t bothered you at all, has he?”

He looked down at the enclosure, at the log under which he knew General would be sleeping. “I just hope I’m not accidentally stealing him from someone.”

John heard a snuffle from the front door, and in tapped Hercules, looking very satisfied with himself. “Did you shut the door behind you?” John asked him, heading to the door to close it.

Hercules sneezed. “Bless you,” John said, walking back to the kitchen. He rinsed his bowl and shoved it into the dishwasher. He yawned. “Oh man, bed time.”

By the time his teeth were brushed and he was dressed in his pyjamas, Hercules was already dozing on his bed. John shooed him out of the way so he could climb under the covers, and Hercules settled next to him, watching him carefully.

That was something Hercules liked to do, John had quickly found out. Watch him while he slept. Hercules slept, sure, but whenever John woke in the middle of the night, Hercules would be there, watching, looking to be two seconds from coming over to him. To do what, John didn’t know. Comfort him? Warm him with his body heat? Lick his face?

John wondered what happened to Hercules’ last owner for such a weird habit to develop.

Maybe Hercules was just a really weird dog.

John didn’t know why Hercules was sticking around for so long. After all, it had been three days, and John hadn’t even been able to take him out for a walk, apart from the first day. He was too busy to do stuff like that. And Hercules looked like a dog that needed exercise.

But still, John had to admit, it was nice to have someone to come home to. Well, someone a little more… _interactive_ than General.

John snuggled into the covers just as he heard a rumble outside. He smiled. Ah, the sound of thunder and rain outside, while he was able to sleep. It was one of the best things in life.

Hercules, however, didn’t seem to agree. At the first sign of the rumble, he was on his feet. He padded the few short steps over to John, and nestled against his side, resting his head and front paws on John’s chest. John frowned, reached out to pat him comfortingly. Hercules licked his hand, making small, distressed sounds. “You don’t like storms, huh?” John said. “That’s okay. You’re all right.”

Hercules let out a soft whine.

John continued to stroke his head and side, the movements becoming sluggish as he began to drift off. Hercules stayed where he was, his dark eyes trained on John’s face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up y'all it's Ingrid (sunken_ships) back with my and Krys' next chapter! the response has been amazing, thank u so much everyone - even though we both (*ahem* me, oops) don't reply to every comment (krys is way more on the ball with that than i am), we read every single one of them, and then send snapchats of them to each other. (also idk i think the formatting of each chapter may be slightly different? sorry about that) anyway, without further ado, here's chapter four! xx

Eliza was a godsend, honestly. Alexander had never really noticed how much she did, how much she meant to him. The first night, the night of the storm, she had stayed by his side. Once the rain and wind ended, the thunder subsided, she helped him into the bathroom and started a hot shower for Alexander, who accepted it graciously.  He wasn’t in it long, though, and when he came back out he was met with piles of pillows and blankets on the couch, and a warm mug of cocoa.  Her smile could have melted his heart.  She looked exhausted, almost as badly as Alexander did, but she was still there for him. 

“Eliza, you didn’t have to.” He said softly.  She patted the couch next to her, the only remaining spot that wasn’t covered by various bedding.

“You’ve had a rough few days, you need it.” Eliza insisted, handing Alexander his mug once he was by her side. He accepted that as well, sipping at it and humming softly. He could feel himself relaxing, and he was doing his best to keep his mind focused on the moment, rather than everything else.  He shifted closer to Eliza and rested his head on her shoulder for a moment, but soon sat back up again to drink his cocoa. “Here, turn.” She gestured, pointing away from her.  Confused, Alexander complied. She started to comb her fingers through his still wet hair, then began to braid it.  Alexander hadn’t had that done since his mother was alive… He smiled and let out a soft hum.  Every little bit of worry and tension melted from his body with the memories and the contact.

Eliza took a hairband off of her wrist and tied off the braid, smiling and letting him turn around. He had finished his cocoa by then, and set the empty mug down on the side table. “Thank you, Eliza. This means the world to me, you know..” His voice was growing sleepy and sluggish, which made Eliza chuckle a bit.

“It’s the least I could do Alexander.  Do you think you’ll be able to sleep tonight?” She asked softly. Alexander gave a bit of a weak nod, resting his head against her again.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, could you stay out here with me?”

Eliza nodded and rubbed his shoulder gently. “Of course, Alexander.  Let me go change.”  She said, getting up to go to her room.  It wasn’t long before she was back, and the pair had cuddled up together on the couch.  Alexander slept like a rock that night.

 

He did, of course, wake up with a sore neck. Nothing too out of the ordinary, though. At least he slept.  Eliza beat him to rise, and had already started to make them breakfast.  He glanced over the back of the couch to watch her in the kitchen. Her long hair had been pulled into a messy bun, and she wore an oversized shirt and boxers. She looked adorable, honestly. Alexander couldn’t help but smile at that. She peeked back at him and gave a beaming smile. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

He laughed and stood, keeping one of the blankets wrapped loosely around himself as he wandered into the kitchen, sitting at the table.  Eliza already had a cup of coffee waiting for him.  He beamed at her before taking a sip, it was already perfectly prepared.  “You’re a hero, you know that?”

Alexander knew he didn’t deserve Eliza in his life.

She didn’t seem to agree with that, though.  She placed a plate in front of him and nudged it. “You need to eat, no more fasting.”  She said simply, sitting across from him with her own breakfast and a mug of tea, which she held in both hands and close to her face. Alexander found that he couldn’t argue with her, not when she glanced up at him with big eyes, and he finally conceded, eating his breakfast.  

It was odd having a home cooked meal, not takeout or cereal or anything like that. He felt spoiled. The rest of the morning carried on in such a fashion, so unused to the domesticity that it was keeping his mind off of Gilbert.  Of course, it only worked as long as he was there. He had to go to work soon enough.  When he did, Eliza kissed his forehead and took the braid out of his hair, combing the waves that now fell freely to frame his face. She handed him a thermos of coffee and waved him off as he left.  

Luckily, she didn’t live too far from Alexander, so his walk to work was about the same distance, maybe even a bit shorter, and he was early as usual.  He was met with a smile from the receptionist, which he returned without a second thought.  He had a rather good morning, and even though the lonely walk to work let his mind drift again, he wasn’t going to let it get the better of him, not today.  He was strong, he could handle this, if not for himself, then for Eliza.  She didn’t need the pressure or stress in her life, and by god he was going to do what he could to keep her from worrying anymore.  

So he found himself in his cubicle, coffee by his computer and fingers flying over the keyboard like they usually did.  He had a feeling it would be a productive day, all things considered.

 

By the time his lunch break rolled around, he had corrected all of the errors in his previous articles, the ones written in his adrenaline and caffeine induced rush, and sent them in to be edited.  He had started work simultaneously on his next articles and a few posts he had been neglecting to make on his own blog, the things that he couldn’t get published even with his good relationship with Washington. He was brought back to reality by Angelica tapping his shoulder, holding up a bag when he turned around. 

“I brought lunch. Care to join me?”  She asked with a small smile that Alexander couldn’t help but return. He saved his documents and closed out of them, logging out of his computer just to be safe. He followed Angelica out, listening to whatever it was she was explaining, something to do with one of her articles, and he gave advice the best that he could, stopping and looking warily around the break room. It was empty for now. He would relish in that as long as he could.

Angelica set up their lunch at the table, and Alexander made himself more coffee, having finished what Eliza made him about half an hour earlier. He would be sure to refill the thermos before going back to his cubicle, but for now a mug was good enough. He settled into his seat beside the elder Schuyler and grinned, thanking her for the meal before digging in. She had gone to their favorite lunch spot, some little soul food place a few blocks up from the office, and Alexander was incredibly grateful for the additional comfort. Angelica chuckled at him when he tore into his food, and she took her time as always, teasing him that “it’s not a race, you know.”

He shrugged it off, eating a little more slowly when he finished about half of it. He gave her a smile, which was charming in its own right even though his cheeks were stuffed with food.

The rest of their break was much the same, a comfortable silence with a few jokes interspersed, and by the time Alexander had refilled his thermos, he thought they would end it on a positive note.

Of course, that would be too easy. 

As he started to walk out, who else but the magenta clad motherfucker decided to make his way into the room. Alexander tried his best to ignore the man, but as everyone knew… Thomas was a difficult force to ignore. Especially when he was blocking the doorway.

“Hamilton.” 

Alexander only sneered, trying to duck his way past the taller man. He was met with a hand to his shoulder, holding him back. It took everything in him not to throw a punch. 

“Let him go, Jefferson, do you really think this is a good idea after last time?” Angelica hissed, beginning to come to Alexander’s aid. Before she was by his side, Jefferson exhaled.

“That’s why I’m here. Stand down, Schuyler.” Jefferson took a step back. He was still in the doorway, but at a point where they could both see him.  Alexander stepped back to Angelica’s side and raised a brow at him.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m here to…” Jefferson crossed his arms over his chest and sucked in a deep breath. “Hamilton, I’m here to apologize for what I said and for provoking you.”

_ Oh.  _ Well that was unusual.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alexander stood straighter, looking between Angelica and Thomas. This must have been a joke, there was no way this was actually happening.

“I was out of line. I knew you were hurting and I thought you wouldn’t be able to fight back. I was playing dirty. I’m sorry, Hamilton.”  He cringed, forcing “sorry” from his lips. This apology was obviously not his decision.

Alexander had no idea how to respond. All he did know is that he wished he could have been there when Washington handed Jefferson’s ass to him.

 

~

 

John woke early. Far too early. Far, far too early. There was no particular reason why; he just was. It was four thirty in the morning. He had to get up at six for work, but, as he lay under the covers, staring at the ceiling, he knew, in his heart, that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.

Hercules, of course, was alert the instant John had woken up, and had shifted a little closer, but was already more than halfway back to sleep, thinking that John would be the same. So when John rolled over to face him, he was startled awake. John gained a little satisfaction in that – he was always one for petty revenge – but, unlike when he’d woken John up, Hercules didn’t hold a grudge. He lifted his head, watching John curiously.

John rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t suppose you feel like going for a walk, do you?”

Hercules was on his feet the instant he heard the word ‘walk’. He was all but trembling with excitement, his tail wagging frantically, pacing the length of the bed, crying.

John chuckled. “I take that as a yes.” He’d had Hercules for five – or was it six? – days now, and he hadn’t even had the chance to take him on a proper walk yet. Around the block once or twice, but that was it.

John sighed, summoning as much energy as he could, and dragged himself out of bed. Hercules alternated between sitting, as if asking for something, and bouncing on his toes, as John dressed himself.

He grabbed Hercules’ leash, whispered good morning to General as not to wake him, and then slipped out of the house, Hercules hot on his heels.

 

They went to the park. John couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the park – whenever he went for a run, he just ran around the block. The idea of grabbing a few friends and going to the park for a picnic was a lovely thought, but, until he had some free time on his hands – which happened pretty much never – the thought remained a thought, and nothing else.

There was no one else at the park. At least, not at first. At one point they passed an exhausted-looking, bedraggled mother shuffling along the path, pushing a pram, fruitlessly trying to soothe her wailing baby. The poor woman had looked so zombie-like that John doubted she’d even noticed him and Hercules.

But that was all. It was cold, it was quiet. The park swam in a layer of mist. The trees and grass seemed to have been swept with a brush dipped in white watercolour paint – a thin coating of frost that would later melt into dewdrops. John’s breath curled into the air, dissipating into the fog. Hercules took a shit in the grass.

John slowed to a stop, rolling his eyes. “Way to ruin the moment, Herc.”

Hercules just wiped his furry ass on the ground and returned to the path, trotting on ahead.

Grimacing, John took the plastic bag that was tied to Hercules’ leash and tidied up his dog’s mess. Well, Hercules wasn’t his dog. He was someone else’s dog.

John tied the bag up, watching Hercules, a small frown on his face.  _ Was _ Hercules his dog now? What was the window of opportunity here? Did he have to wait at least before claiming Hercules as his own?

When had he made the decision to keep him?

Something John quickly found out about owning a dog: it’s not like it is in the movies. You never see dogs poop in movies. Or, when you do, there’s always a bin nearby to throw out the poop bag.

In real life, sometimes you just have to carry around the poop bag until you find a bin.

“I’m tempted to tie this to your collar and make  _ you _ carry it around,” John said to Hercules, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.

Hercules was darting all around the place, sniffing this and peeing on that. A very happy dog, it seemed.

John smiled to himself. It filled him with warmth, seeing Hercules so happy. All the dog was doing was walking. It was cold, he’d been woken up before dawn, and yet here he was, prancing along without a care in the world, ears relaxed and tail wagging. Was this what like having a dog was like? Just being happy because your dog was happy?

John spied a bin off to the right. “Hold up a minute, Herc,” he said, and jogged over to it. Hercules waited him alertly, but, upon deciding that John wasn’t running away, went back to investigating.

John chucked the bag into the bin, and went to join Hercules once again, when his eyes fell on the A4 poster sticky-taped to the street light near the bin.

_ LOST SERVICE DOG _ , the poster said in bold lettering.

His heart inexplicably thudding in his chest, John approached the sign, but he already knew what he would find. Sure enough, the photo was of Hercules.

No, not Hercules –

John looked over his shoulder. “Gilbert?” he called unsurely, pronouncing the name as clearly stated on the poster.  _ Jee-bare _ . French.

Hercules– Gilbert’s ears perked up, and he hurried over, eager to please. John swallowed.

“Oh,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say. “Oh,” he said again. “Your, um, your name’s… You’re Gilbert.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re a service dog, huh? I guess we’d… better get you home as soon as possible, then.”

Gilbert just started sniffing his new surroundings. John pulled out his phone. It was about five o’clock. Calling the number on the poster – the number of ‘A. Hamilton’ – at this hour would be obnoxiously rude.

So John took a photo of the poster. Later. He’d call later.

He looked back down at his dog. At A. Hamilton’s dog. Herc– Gilbert wasn’t John’s dog, and never had been.

But that didn’t explain why John’s heart felt so heavy.

“Come on,” he said, trying to sound cheerier than he felt. “Time to head back.”

 

John took his time showering and getting ready, checking on General and preparing himself for the day. He had the time, after all. He was itching to call whoever A. Hamilton was. He had so many questions. What kind of service dog was Gilbert? For how long had he been missing by the time John had found him?

Finally, just as he was about to leave for work at six thirty – having been almost unable to take his eyes of Gilbert, feeling like the start of something new and weirdly wonderful was about to be torn from him, and then feeling guilty for feeling that way – he couldn’t take it any longer.

He called.

A voice answered. “Hello?”

The voice was not groggy or thick with sleep. John was surprised, to say in the least. Maybe this guy had to work early.

John took a deep breath. Gilbert was snoozing on the floor nearby. “Hi,” he said. “My name’s John. Laurens. I, uh, I have your dog. Gilbert.”

“You have Gilbert?” the guy said instantly. “Oh my God, Gil. Gil. Where are you? Where is he?”

John couldn’t help but chuckle a little. He’d never heard anyone sound so relieved and so desperate at the same time. “I ran into him a few days ago. He’s been living with me. I only just saw the poster.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“I have to go to work right now, but I finish work early today – I could drop him over to your place this afternoon? If that’s okay? Unless you need him right now. You said that he was a service dog.”

“Yes,” A. Hamilton said. “Yeah, he is. I…” He paused, for so long that John thought the call had cut out. “This afternoon is… fine. Is he okay?”

“He’s absolutely fine,” John said. “Don’t worry.”

Hamilton sighed. “Good. Good. That’s such a relief. Can you call me as soon as you finish work?”

John knelt down to stroke Gilbert’s face gently. “Yeah, of course,” he said, his voice coming out softer than he’d intended. He cleared his throat. “You’ll have him by the end of the day.”

“That’s wonderful,” A. Hamilton said. “I’m – I’m Alex, by the way. I don’t know if I said.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon, Alex,” John said.

“Yes,” Alex said, and John could hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, this afternoon.”

The call ended.

John bent down to kiss the top of Gilbert’s head. “See you when I get home, buddy,” he murmured. Then he stood up and went to work, his shoulders slumped and his hands shoved into his pockets.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello hello and welcome to another exciting episode of Lost and Found :p   
> krys here, to say thank you all for all of the sweet comments and the kudos that you've left us. it's warming our hearts <3   
> but here we are, things are looking up for our boys! <3 let us know what you think, thank you for reading <3

Despite Eliza making Alexander promise (“No Alexander, pinkie swears _are_ legally binding and I will fight you about that.”) that he would try to sleep in, here he was up at the asscrack of dawn, sitting at her table with a mug in his hands and his computer open. He didn't need to be awake early that day at all, he had the day off. He didn't know why, probably some stupid holiday he didn't care about, or something with the workers union. Unimportant. He had the day to do his personal writings now, since he was already ahead with work. 

He tucked his earbuds in and started to work, finding that he was soon pages deep into this blog post. He would have to find a clever place to cut, something to draw people in. He could do that once he finished. He hummed and kept his eyes to his screen, but he paused when he saw his phone light up, buzzing against the table and beckoning him to answer. He didn't know the number, but it had a New York area code. _Probably a telemarketer_ , he thought, defeated. But what if it _was_ about Gilbert…

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” Okay, human. Good, that’s a good sign. The man on the other end sounded nice enough just from a greeting. “My name’s John. Laurens. I, uh, I have your dog. Gilbert.”

Alexander's heart could have stopped, but he responded immediately. “You have Gilbert? Oh my God, Gil. Gil. Where are you? Where is he?” Shit, he was rambling again, mind and mouth going a mile a minute. He bit his lip and started to tap at the table. 

He could hear the man--John--chuckle on the other end of the call. The sound made his chest swell and he could feel his cheeks flush. That was such a beautiful sound. “I ran into him a few days ago. He’s been living with me. I only just saw the poster.”

“Oh, thank God.” Alexander released a breath he didn't know he was holding, mind off of the man and back onto the situation at hand. _Gilbert was safe._

“I have to go to work right now, but I finish work early today – I could drop him over to your place this afternoon? If that’s okay? Unless you need him right now. You said that he was a service dog.”

“Yes, yeah, he is. I…” Alexander had to stop and take a breath, gather his thoughts, pinch himself to make sure this was really happening. Once he was ready to speak again, he wondered how long it had been. He could still hear the call static. John didn't hang up. “This afternoon is… fine. Is he okay?”

“He’s absolutely fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. Good. That’s such a relief. Can you call me as soon as you finish work?” He didn't want to wait, but he couldn't bring himself to inconvenience the man for some reason, Gilbert or no. 

“Yeah, of course,” John was soft, but cleared his voice, returning to a normal volume. “You’ll have him by the end of the day.”

Alexander could have cried, honestly, but he kept his composure. “That’s wonderful, I’m – I’m Alex, by the way. I don’t know if I said.” An afterthought. The man only knew him as A. Hamilton, what he put on the poster. He didn't know why he said Alex, few people ever called him that. It felt right, though. He already trusted John enough with the name, it was odd. 

“I’ll see you this afternoon, Alex,” John said.

“Yes,” Alexander’s grin was so wide it made his face hurt. “Yes, this afternoon.” 

The call ended and everything finally hit him. Gilbert was okay, he was alive. Alexander was getting his dog back, his best friend. He was nearly vibrating in his seat, he could have cried. Things were starting to fall into place and make sense again. 

“Is everything alright, Alexander?” He was broken from his state by another soft voice, coming from the doorway. Eliza rubbed the sleep from her eyes when she looked at him. Her face lit up when she saw his smile. It went without saying from that look alone, but…

“Someone found Gilbert. We're meeting this afternoon.” 

 

John had called him again around noon, saying his shift had just ended, and after a shower he would be ready to meet. Alexander picked the time and place, one thirty at the Great Lawn in Central Park. John seemed happy with that. So at twelve thirty, Alexander gathered his things from Eliza's and kissed her cheek, making his way back to his place, which soon wouldn't be so empty. He dropped his bags on the floor and hurried out, making it to their meeting point with twenty minutes to spare. 

His heart was light with joy, and his wallet heavy with the reward money his poster guaranteed. After waiting for some time, he felt someone approach him. 

Alexander never thought he would find the need to wax poetic about brown eyes, brown hair, freckled skin, but here he was. He was lost in the eyes of the man who had found his dog. They looked brown upon his initial glance, but when the stranger got closer, when the sun hit them... He was floating in honey. He could see flecks of green, gold… They were amazing. Not to mention his hair, oh god. A mass of curls that bounced with every step that he took. The man had a smile that could light up the room, too. 

For the first time, Alexander had his breath taken away by somebody. For the first time, Alexander had gotten lost just with a gaze and couldn’t find his words. He could see every little freckle on this man’s skin and he felt the overwhelming need to press kisses into each and every one of them, especially the ones on and around his lips—oh no. He was staring. 

“Sir, are you…?”

“Alexander Hamilton, you called about—Gilbert!” Finally snapped out of whatever had taken over him (not without noting how sweet the man’s voice was without phone static in the way. There was just enough of a lilt to make his Southern upbringing apparent), Alexander fell to his knees and opened his arms. He was soon flat on the ground, the poodle on top of him wagging his tail and licking his face. Alexander wrapped his arms around the dog and laughed aloud, earning a smile from the stranger. “My god, Gilbert, you’re okay…” Alexander said gently, the dog laying on him now and nibbling on his chin between licks. “Thank you for taking care of him, Sir. Thank you for keeping him safe.” 

The other man shrugged his shoulders and gave a soft, contented hum. “Nothing to thank me for. He’s a sweet pup, I woulda kept him if I hadn’t have found your poster. He was never at risk.” The assurance from the stranger made Alexander’s eyes light up. 

“That means the world to me, you know..” Alexander was making no effort to get up off of the grass. He was too happy to have his dog back. 

 

~

The journey to Central Park was one filled with nerves. John didn’t know why he was nervous. What if Alex looked down at Herc– Gilbert, his name is _Gilbert_ , and saw that something was terribly wrong with him that John had missed? Or what if Alex thought John had stolen him?

John shook his head. No, it would be fine. If he was being entirely honest with himself, he was more nervous about the fact that he would probably never see Gilbert again.

He looked down at Gilbert, trotting along beside him. Maybe John could get a dog of his own. Maybe Gilbert was like some little, furry angel that had come into his life to help train him for his own future dog. Or something.

When they finally reached the Great Lawn, John kept his eyes open, searching for Alex – not that he’d know what the guy looked like – but quickly realised that that wasn’t his job. Gilbert would find him.

Gilbert ended up wandering away to play with some other dogs he’d found, and John’s eyes fell on a man, maybe about his age, who was standing alone, head twisting left and right, bouncing on his toes. He was looking for something.

_That must be him_ , John thought. He glanced over his shoulder – Gilbert was still rolling around with a Labrador.

John snorted a laugh. How ironic would it be, he realised, if he’d turned around, and Gilbert had run away?

“Hey, Gilbert,” he called, before making his way over to the guy he assumed was Alex. “Gil, c’mere.”

John approached Alex as Gilbert hurried over. Alex turned around at the sound of his footsteps, and John’s stomach twisted in on itself.

Oh. Oh, this guy was… Wow.

The eyes were the first thing to catch John’s attention. Deep brown, beautiful, alive with energy. The second was the mouth. Bow lips, pink, soft and kissable.

Not that John was thinking about kissing him. Not at all.

He blinked to shake himself from his stupor. _Don’t be an idiot, John._ “Sir, are you…?”

“Alexander Hamilton,” Alex said instantly. “You called about – Gilbert!”

John took half a step back to make room for Alex dropping to his knees, welcoming the blur of brown fur that rocketed into his arms. John couldn’t help but smile. Yep, Gilbert was definitely this guy’s dog. Gilbert was wriggling and whimpering frantically, and then Alex was on the ground, on his back, giggling – he was actually _giggling_ , and it was actually probably one of the best things John had ever heard in his life.

It was an oddly personal scene, and John almost felt like he was intruding, but neither dog nor owner seemed bothered by his presence. They didn’t even seem to know he was there.

Eventually, though, Gilbert calmed down, and lay beside Alex like he’d done to John every night, licking Alex’s chin. Alex laughed, and John’s smile widened.

“My God, Gilbert, you’re okay…” Alex looked up at John, his eyes filled with warmth and what looked like unshed tears. “Thank you for taking care of him, sir. Thank you for keeping him safe.”

John shrugged his shoulders, hands in pockets, and hummed. “Nothing to thank me for. He’s a sweet pup, I woulda kept him if I hadn’t found your poster. He was never at risk.”

Alex’s face lit up, and butterflies bloomed in John’s gut. “That means the world to me, you know.”

John hesitated, and then sat down, cross-legged, beside Alex, reaching over to stroke a hand down Gilbert’s side. “I don’t blame you. He wriggles his way into your heart pretty quick.”

Gilbert whined softly, and Alex cooed. “Oh, are you happy to see me, Gil? I’m so happy to see you. I was so worried about you!” He took Gilbert’s head in his hands so he could pepper kisses all around the dog’s face.

John chuckled. Alex scratched behind Gilbert’s ears, and looked to him, still lying on his back on the ground, and apparently having no interest in moving. “Where’d you find him?”

“Just near my apartment, a week ago. I tripped over him. How long has he been missing for?”

“A week.” Alex sighed, and kissed Gilbert’s head. “I missed you so much, Gil.”

“Well,” John said, reluctant to go but feeling like he was overstaying his welcome, getting to his feet, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Alex sat up abruptly, Gilbert’s head sliding to his lap. “No, wait,” he blurted, easing Gilbert’s head off his legs and standing up, brushing off his butt. “The reward. I said I’d give out a reward.”

John waved a hand. “Nah, man, don’t be silly. I don’t need a reward.”

Alex reached for his wallet in his pocket. “A thousand dollars; that’s what I said, right?”

John shook his head. “Seriously, I don’t want it. I was more than happy to take care of him.”

Alex didn’t seem to know what to do with this information. “Well, I can’t just let you go without _something_.”

John hesitated, and then smiled. “All right,” he said. “You could grab a coffee with me.”

Alex’s cheeks turned a perfect pink. “Like a date?” he said.

John shrugged. “Yeah, like a date.”

“Right now?”

“If you’re free.”

Alex tugged on his ponytail – an utterly unfairly adorable ponytail – and smiled. “Um, yeah, sure. I’m free. I could go for coffee. Coffee’s great.”

John’s heart swelled. “Great,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Alex’s smile widened, and it was the most gorgeous smile John had ever seen. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go, Gil.”

As they walked to a coffee shop nearby, John quickly found out a few things about Alex: he was terrifyingly smart, and he liked to talk. A lot.

Neither of these two things did anything for John except endear him to Alex even more. _Oh, great_ , he thought. _He’s just like his dog. He wriggles his way into your heart pretty damn quick._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how's it going it's Ingrid here back with another chapter  
> as always, thank u all for the feedback and lovely comments xx

The last thing Alexander expected was to go on a coffee date with the man who found his dog. The last thing Alexander would do was complain about that.  He was still reeling about the fact that John had declined the reward. It was a good show of character, but it was _a lot_ of money. Just looking at John, Alexander could guess that it was at least a month’s rent, or a good portion of it, wherever he was living. But when he suggested coffee, Alexander had to go and open his stupid mouth (“Like a date?” How stupid could you get Alexander, of course it wasn’t a date).

 

But then, to Alexander’s surprise, he didn’t correct him. He agreed.  

  
So that’s where they were, Alexander walking with John by his side and Gilbert between them, looking content and wagging his tail.  He didn’t even need his leash to stay right between them. He felt relaxed immediately, Gil’s tail bouncing off of his leg every few seconds. He could hear him panting as they walked, the click of his claws against the cement.  His dog was back by his side, and on top of that, so was the incredibly attractive man who found him.  His life was looking up.

 

John had made the mistake though of asking Alexander what he did, and he was off on a tangent, explaining what he did for Time, everything that he known for in the office. Somehow, that turned into an explanation of the rivalry he shared with Thomas Jefferson.  All the while as they walked and Alexander spoke, Gil took periodic breaks to sniff at things, examining whatever he could.  Alexander stopped without even looking, as if he had a telepathic bond with the dog.  Finally, he took a breath, stopping his tangent and looking at John with a gleam in his eyes.

 

“So what about you, Mister John Laurens, dog protector and my knight in shining armor?”

 

John laughed at that, and Alexander felt himself swell with pride at having earned that reaction himself.  He detailed what he did as a scrub nurse, some of the jobs making Alexander scrunch his nose.

 

“How can you handle that, my God, John.”

 

“It’s not too bad once you get used to it.”

 

“Aren’t you scared that you’ll drop a tool inside of someone?”

 

“Not after all the years in Med school, I’m not.”

 

“Do you have to clean up the wounds? That’s intense.”

 

“Alexander, that isn’t what I do.” John laughed a bit. Alexander’s heart swelled with the sound. It was gentle, sweet… Not mocking like the laughter he usually heard when he was incorrect about something. “I’m more of a gopher than a nurse like you’re thinking. I suppose you could say I’m the tool delivery boy and the cleaning crew?” He shrugged a little. “I do preliminary setups, and I guess you could say that I’m the surgeon’s right hand man, in a way, during surgery, then clean up the OR and equipment once they finish.”  

 

Alexander learned that John loved his job, and judging by how he kept looking down at Gilbert, seated comfortably between them, he loved the dog as well.  Speaking of Gil, he was busy alternating his gaze between them, begging for bits of each man’s treats.  Alexander broke of a bit of his sugar cookie and handed it to the dog, who accepted it and wagged his tail quickly.  He soon turned to John, ears pricked up. John glanced to Alexander, who only laughed and nodded.  He broke off a piece of whatever he was eating, Alexander thought it was some sort of pound cake or something, but he wasn’t sure, and handed it to the dog.  Now content having shared with them, he lay back down and rested his head on his paws.

 

He looked down at the dog and brushed his foot against his side. He let out a huff of air and closed his eyes.  The two men continued talking, learning the woes of each other’s jobs. After his Thomas Jefferson tangent, Alexander couldn’t help but ask, “Do you have a rival of your own?”

 

John clenched his fist and let out a hiss of a breath, ending it in a growl of the name “Charles fucking Lee.”

 

Alexander raised his brows, not expecting that reaction from the ray of sunshine John he had been speaking to until that point. He didn’t mind the change though.  “Charles fucking Lee, huh?”

 

“This little shit, you wouldn’t believe…” John rubbed his temples and took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “He’s just so arrogant, and he can’t do a goddamn thing right. All he does is talk trash about our boss behind his back, then cower like a bitch when he’s confronted.  He’s a two faced little weasel and his biggest skill is fucking _groveling_.”

 

Alexander snorted out a laugh, which earned a smile from John and a confused look from Gilbert.

  
The rest of their coffee date seemed to go as such, one of them startling the dog with a loud and sudden laugh, gaining either a grin or choked laughter from the other as well. The next time Alexander even thought to check the time since they met up around 1:30,  it was already 5:45.  He laughed softly when John peeked over his shoulder and laughed as well. “Good god.  I think I need to call it a night, I have work early tomorrow.” He said, reluctantly standing, only to kneel again and kiss the top of Gilbert’s head. Gilbert licked his hands and bumped his nose against John’s cheek.

 

“Hopefully our first date won’t be our last?” Alexander stood as well, and Gilbert was on his feet immediately.

 

“God, definitely not. Are you free this weekend?” John grinned. “We could go out for drinks, my treat.”

 

Alexander considered it for a moment and smiled. “Only if we can pregame at my place with a movie.” John’s grin grew wider. “Say.. Five o’clock Saturday?”

 

“It’s a date.”

  


Alexander wasn’t home long before he was tempted to text John.  He resisted, instead sending Eliza, Angelica and Washington a photo of himself and Gilbert (Yes he took a selfie of his dog laying on him, fight him. He was happy to have him back). He looked at the photo for a moment himself and sighed softly, contentedly. Gil was asleep on him, head on Alexander’s chest, and everything was back to normal.

 

His phone buzzed once, twice, three times.  He checked it.

 

_- > Angelica: Oh my god I’m so glad! _

_- > Angelica: I’ll call off the search! _

_- > Angelica: Did you tell Eliza and Washington? _

_ <\- Angelica: You know I did.  Waiting on their responses now. _

 

He smiled and rested his head back on the pillow, free hand petting Gilbert slowly until his phone went off again

 

_- > Eliza: He’s back! Alexander that’s wonderful! _

_- > Eliza: Celebratory Chinese takeout on me? I’ll deliver! _

_ <\- Eliza: That sounds heavenly. Door will be unlocked for you, best of women _

_- > Eliza: Cut the flattery, you’re already getting a free meal. ;) _

 

Alexander chuckled just a little and put his phone back down, returning both hands to the dozing poodle on top of him. His hands playing through the dog’s fur soothed him enough that he actually managed to doze off himself.

 

He woke when he heard his door swing open and felt Gilbert shoot up.  He didn’t make a sound though, telling him that it must have been… “Eliza, hello.” He murmured, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Eliza grinned and sat on the sofa by him, handing him a takeout container and a pair of chopsticks.  Gilbert curled up on the sofa beside her now, tail wagging.  She gave him a piece of chicken from her own meal, which he ate quickly, then nosed her hand as if thanking her,  

 

They ate in relative silence, then Eliza hummed. “So you took quite a while to get back to us… Weren’t you supposed to meet up to get Gil at like.. One?”

 

“One thirty, yeah.”

 

“Why didn’t you message us until six thirty?”  She gave him a grin and a suspicious glance.

 

He felt his cheeks flush a bit and he shoveled more of the takeout into his mouth to give him time to formulate a good enough answer. Once he swallowed, he bit his lip. “He was amazing, Eliza, I... He didn’t accept the reward, he asked me out for coffee instead. A coffee _date_ might I add.”  

 

Eliza raised her brows. “He saved your dog and took you out? What a charmer.” She put down her takeout box and patted her lap. Alexander knew what it meant by then, so he scooted closer to her and turned his back, letting her play in his hair.  She hummed a little as she braided it for him, a routine they had settled into after the few nights he spent at her place.

 

“You don’t understand, Eliza.” He sighed a bit dreamily and started to pick at his food again. “This man, John, he’s…” He stopped and actually had to think about this one.  “He’s just.. He’s nothing but freckles and a beautiful smile. I’m weak to freckles and a beautiful smile.”

 

Eliza grinned as well, moving to get a glimpse of his face and noticing the flush on Alexander’s cheeks. “He sounds lovely… I assume you’ve got his number? Are you going out again?”

 

“A movie and drinks on Saturday, yeah.” Alexander admitted with a bright smile.

 

“Get your man, Alexander.” She cooed and nudged him with her knee. She laughed when he nudged back, cheeks growing darker. Once she tied off the braid, he turned back around. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but his smile was glowing… Alexander was absolutely infatuated, she could tell, and it warmed her heart to see him so happy after such a difficult week.  

 

She would need to thank John personally for all he had done for Alexander.

 

~

 

Each minute John spent with Alex at the coffee shop, the more he realised that he was very quickly falling for him. It was hard not to. Alex was just a ball of unstoppable energy, constantly shifting in his seat, waving his hands around wildly when he talked.

 

And the intensity with which he watched John whenever John spoke – well, to be honest, at first it was a little intimidating. Because Alex was so… so switched on, all the time, it felt like he was always moments from cutting in. It almost felt like John was being interrogated. But then, after a while, John came to realise that that was just how Alex listened. It was just how Alex seemed to do anything – with his full being. If he was listening to John, he was listening with every fibre of his body. His focus was entirely on John.

 

John had to admit it: it made him feel, well, special. Wanted. He knew that Alex truly wanted to be there, to listen to him, to make him laugh and smile with his crazy stories.

 

And although, at first glance, it seemed like John and Alex were quite different, as the afternoon wore on, John began to realise just how similar they were. It was a relief to know that he wasn’t the only one who hated a work colleague with a fiery passion. It had been a while since John had truly been able to feel comfortable to just be himself around someone else. Especially around someone he barely knew.

 

So when he peered over Alex’s shoulder to check the time and saw that it was almost six o’clock, his heart sank like a stone. “Good God,” he said with a laugh. “I think I need to call it a night, I have work early tomorrow.” He rose, his knees cracking, and he knelt down to give Gilbert a kiss on the head goodbye, undeniably relieved that it probably wouldn’t be the final farewell, if things continued well with Alex. He was tempted to offer Alex a kiss of his own, but decided that perhaps that was a little _too_ forward.

 

And then, somehow, they were arranging a second date already. The most clichéd date of all – dinner and a movie – and John already couldn’t wait.

 

When John arrived back at the apartment, the first thought he had was that it was quiet. He went and said hello to General, who said or did nothing in response, and headed to the kitchen.

 

He prepared dinner. There was still some leftover dog food in the fridge. John decided to leave it there; maybe Alex would visit with Gilbert soon. Maybe he could give them the dog food. After all, it wasn’t like John needed it.

 

As John picked at his microwaved beef stir fry, absentmindedly tugging on locks of his hair, he began to grow aware of just how different his routine had become with Gilbert there. He’d had a whole other person to take care of – even if that person was a dog – and it had turned everything upside down. In a good way, though. A great way.

 

And now he was back to normal.

 

Normal was pretty damn boring.

 

John stared at his phone on the table.

 

He had Alex’s number.

 

He picked up the phone, eyes locked on the black screen. It would take two seconds, that was all. _Hi! It’s John_ – but then what? _How are you?_ wouldn’t work; John had seen him not even two hours ago. He knew how he was. _I had fun today_ was just ridiculous. It had been a spontaneous date. Alex would probably think, _What, he had fun giving me my dog back?_ And besides, nothing said ‘overly eager’ like texting on the day that the date had occurred.

 

No. It would have to wait. As lonely as John felt at that moment – something he hadn’t felt in a while – he could be patient. Who knew? Maybe Alex would text. Or not. Alex probably had stuff to do. He worked at a huge magazine company. He was probably busy working on articles, or something. Important things.

 

John sat back in his chair, putting his phone down again with a sigh, and continued eating. Saturday was just around the corner, right? He could wait until Saturday.

 

His bed was cold that night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello! Krys here. Sorry for the delay, life has been a little crazy as of late for me, I should have gotten the chapter up sooner,,,  
> Anyway I'm done with year two of college now, so hopefully I can be writing more now! As always, let us know what you think!
> 
> edit: this is ingrid here, just letting you know that a plot hole has been filled, thank u to EmmaginaryFriends for pointing out that slip-up :) <3

Alexander didn’t let Gilbert leave his side for more than a few moments that entire week. He got his dog back on Monday, and every day that week, he took Gil with him everywhere. Even work. Angelica and Washington were happy to see the dog. Honestly, the entire office was happy to see the dog. Gilbert was happy to see everyone as well, tugging Alexander around to greet everyone he could. Even Jefferson smiled when he saw the dog at Alexander’s side again.

His work went by quickly all that week, and he found it surprisingly easier to get everything done with Gilbert under his heel, even on good days. Maybe he would have to make this a regular thing. He jotted a note to talk to Washington about that and pinned it to his already cluttered cubicle wall.

He had learned in that week that he and John usually took lunch around the same time, and he was quick to respond to texts when he was available to. He had considered on more than one occasion asking John on a date before Saturday, but after a long bout of consideration and a series of one sided conversations with Gilbert, he decided against it. He didn’t want to come off as desperate, he told himself, and even with Eliza insisting he wouldn’t, well… He was convinced that he would.

Especially since he was the one to break the text silence. He had messaged John the morning after getting Gilbert back. He hesitated quite a while before he hit send, knowing that he really probably should wait, but he couldn’t help himself. He reread the message probably ten times before he finally willed himself to hit send, but when he did, he felt himself begin to panic. Gilbert was immediately at his side, whimpering and bumping against his thigh, nosing at his hand until he was being pet. Alexander relaxed again with that, and stayed calm until his phone buzzed and he saw _John Laurens_ lighting up his screen. He sucked in a deep breath and looked at the conversation again.

_- >John Laurens: Hey John, this is Alexander Hamilton. I just wanted to thank you again for everything, for taking such good care of Gilbert. I was honestly terrified I would never see him again. I think he misses you though. Can’t wait to see you Saturday.  
<-John Laurens: Nothing to thank me for Alex. I was happy to take care of him. Can’t wait :) _

Upon finding that their first interaction was painless, Alexander and John were texting nearly nonstop whenever their free time coincided. Alexander was beaming whenever he was looking at his phone. It made the minutes tick by just a little bit faster, made his days a lot brighter.

That was, until Saturday actually rolled around.

John had the day off work, so they spent a majority of the morning texting one another. Alexander refused to get out of bed, snuggled up with the incredibly missed warmth that was his dog until about ten. At that point, he threw on some ratty pair of pajama pants then went about his day (eating some junk, over-sugared cereal for breakfast, drinking too much coffee, writing, the usual) until the afternoon rolled around. The numbers seemed to be getting more intimidating the closer he was to John arriving.

Around two, he began to clean his apartment. He was done by three. He went over it again, done by three fifteen. He was nervous, incredibly nervous. Gil could tell, and he stayed by his side, even when he just paced aimlessly through the rooms, which took up a majority of the final hour of waiting.

Four thirty, and Alexander had lined all of the alcohol he had out on the counter. If they were going to pregame, he could at least provide options, and options he had. His heart fluttered in his chest and he continued to pace. Gil, at this point, had settled on the chair to just watch him. He could tell his human was just nervous, not about to have an attack. So he watched. Left, right, left, right, pause to look at the door, look at Gilbert. Left, right, left, right, pause, door, Gil. This went on for about fifteen minutes, until there was a knock at the door.

Gil beat Alexander to it, sitting patiently for it to open. He whined a little, but nothing more. Alexander took a breath to compose himself, then moved to open the door and be greeted by the sun.

Or John Laurens’ smile.

They may as well have been the same thing in Alexander’s eyes.

“Alex, hey. Sorry, I hope you don’t mind that I’m early.” He smiled sheepishly.

“No worries, it’s good to see you.” Alexander returned the expression and shrugged a bit, then hesitated before opening his arms, offering a hug in lieu of a handshake.

He regretted it immediately, but it was too late to take it back. Now he just needed to see how John would respond…

~

The first text John received from Alex had been the day after he’d returned Gilbert.

John had spent a minute or so trying to stay cool and collected – to avoid embarrassing himself in front of his tortoise, of course – and another minute or so stressing over his response.

It was only after he’d sent it that he realised he’d ended it with _Can’t wait._ Alex had ended his message with _Can’t wait to see you Saturday._

“Idiot,” John muttered to himself. “General, I’m an idiot. I sound like a fucking parrot. He probably thinks I’m just copying him. Do you think a smiley face is sarcastic? I hope he doesn’t think it’s sarcastic.” He paused, looking at the phone, and smiled. “He said he can’t wait to see me.”

The texting continued throughout the week. Both John and Alex took lunch at the same time – although it was tricky, when they had such full-on jobs. It was rare that they were both able to take the entire lunch break; neither of them often had the time to spare.

But they made do. Each text made John’s heart break into a canter, and whenever the name _Alex Hamilton_ (he’d considered changing it to ‘Alexander Hamilton’, because it was a strangely musical name that John loved to say) popped up on his screen, he felt like he was going to explode into a puff of rainbows and flowers and sunshine.

Once or twice a surgeon had snapped at him because he’d been on his phone during an operation, and hadn’t been listening when he’d been asked to fetch something from the storeroom. He’d seen many other scrubs nurses on their phones – most of the time they weren’t needed during the actual operation – but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty.

But still, the temptation to check if Alex had texted him remained, niggling in the forefront of his mind at all times.

Friday finally turned into Saturday. John had the day off work. The morning was spent solely texting Alex.

Alex had this way of texting that just amazed John. His messages were, endearingly, always just a little too long – it took him two sentences to say How are you? and almost a paragraph to ask John if he liked croissants.

But that wasn’t what amazed John. Sure, Alex’s job involved writing, but, damn, could this boy _write_. Each text was like reading poetry. It didn’t even feel like Alex was trying to sound like the text-messaging equivalent of Edgar Allan Poe; it just seemed to happen naturally.

_< -Alex: He’s lying here in bed with me. The sun is leaking through my blinds, making Gil’s fur glossy in stripes of whitish yellow haha I think he likes feeling like a model, all shiny fur and lying back in luxury. I’m sure he misses you. And I wish he could come on our date!_  
_- >Alex: well, why can't he?? he's a service dog, right? they'll let him into the movies_  
<-Alex: I have a general rule that I don't bring him on first dates. I love having him around when I need him, but sometimes I just want to feel like I can do some things by myself.  
_< -Alex: Also, he sometimes gets restless during movies. And sometimes, if people have brought their children, the children often get distracted and disturb everyone else trying to play with him. It's just easier to leave him at home, I think._  
_- >Alex: we could try to hide him so the kids don't play with him? hide him under our coats? or put him in a stroller??_  
_< -Alex: I think we’d be hard-pressed to buy a stroller big enough for him. He may act like a baby, but he’s definitely not the size of one. Also, people at the cinema might wonder why our child seems to suffer from hypertrichosis and has a shiny black nose._

John almost laughed out loud. Who used the word ‘hypertrichosis’ in casual conversation?

_< -Alex: ah, i guess he'll have to miss out on this one, then. but i'd love to have him with us next time!  
->Alex: We’ll have to give him a detailed recount of the movie so he can keep up with conversation. And yes, maybe next time :)_

Time seemed to have been thrown in a vat of honey treacle. Each minute took an hour to tick by. John busied himself, going to the gym, cleaning General’s tank, trying on about seven different outfits (it had been such a long time since he’d gone on a date that he’d forgotten what the dress code was).

And then, to top it all off, he overestimated how long it would take to get there. He arrived at Alex’s door fifteen minutes early. It was rude to be too early, wasn’t it? What was the window there? Was fifteen minutes too early?

He hesitated outside, finding a bench nearby and sitting for five minutes, his knee bouncing nervously. He played with his hair – did he tuck one side behind his ear, or not – and panicked about his outfit choice before reassuring himself that it was fine, about six times over. He checked the address Alex had texted him too many times to count. checking again and again that it was the right one.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He checked his watch. Nine minutes early was fine, wasn’t it? Besides, it didn’t matter if Alex wasn’t completely ready. John wouldn’t mind waiting.

He took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and knocked.

He heard the scrabbling of claws on the floor not a moment later, and then gentle whining coming from behind the door, and that instantly helped to soothe John’s nerves. He broke out into a smile. He couldn’t wait to see Gilbert again.

Then the door opened, and there stood Alex. It was like John was seeing him for the first time again – he was again thrown by the intense beauty of Alex’s brown eyes, the loveliness of his smile.

“Alex, hey,” John said, and inwardly cringed. Of all the awkward greetings… “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind that I’m early.” He smiled sheepishly. He hoped Alex found the whole Zooey-Deschanel-quirky-and-adorkable thing appealing. It wasn’t what John had been planning to go for, but it looked like it was where he was going, apparently.

“No worries,” Alex said easily, “it’s good to see you.” He seemed to shrug a little, and then held out his arms.

Of course, John didn’t hesitate in accepting the hug. He wasn’t about to leave Alex hanging. And besides, anything else would have seemed uncomfortable. A handshake? Right before a date? It wasn’t a business meeting.

Alex was warm, and his hair smelled nice. John knew, in that moment, that he would never, ever grow tired of Alex’s hugs.

The hug was broken up, however, by a persistent ball of brown fur. Gilbert whined, snuffling at John’s leg, tapping his feet excitedly. John laughed and dropped to his knees, welcoming Gilbert’s affections. “Hello!” he said, screwing up his nose as Gilbert licked his cheek. “Yes, yes, I’m glad to see you, too.”

Alex laughed, and John looked up at him, beaming. “How’ve you been? Since you’ve gotten him back?”

Alex nodded. “Good. Great, actually. A lot better. I’ve been taking him into work as well. Everyone’s glad to see he’s okay. And that I’m okay again. He’s a little celebrity around the office; everyone knows who he is. But that’s probably because I talk about him all the time.”

“Well, so you should,” John said, scratching Gilbert’s neck. “He’s worth talking about.”

Alex smiled. “That’s true.”

Gilbert licked John’s chin, and John stood up again, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. “Eugh,” he said jokingly, and Alex chuckled.

“Yep, he leaves no prisoners,” Alex said. He stepped back, gesturing for John to enter his home. “So, after all that, do you want to come in?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *blows the dust off this fic* *bursts a lung coughing* okay, so we're back. sorry guys, my bad entirely, but goddamnit, we're not giving up. i'd recommend reading the last chapter to remind yourself what happened last, and, as always, krys has written alexander, and i've written john. thanks for sticking with us, guys! you're the best.  
> Ingrid xoxo

John Laurens hugged him back.

Holy shit, John Laurens hugged him back.

Alexander’s mind was reeling with the thought even as they spoke and got ready for their date. (Date. _Their date!_ ) They didn’t stay in the apartment for long, just enough time for them to decide that, yeah, coming back here for drinks and takeout after the movies sounds a lot better than going out. In the time that they decided that and Alexander got his coat, John was trapped under a big lump of dog. Gilbert had curled up on his lap and put both paws on his chest, pinning him back into the couch as he licked his face.  

“Gil, rude.” Alexander called from his bedroom doorway when he came back out with his coat wrapped tight around him. John ducked away from the kisses and laughed, insisting that it was fine, but still instructing Gil to get down so they could leave.  

When they were heading out the door, both of them kissed Gilbert goodbye (how domestic. Alexander liked that). Gilbert whimpered a bit and bounced his front paws, but Alexander assured they would be home soon.  He left to curl up on the couch, where John had been sitting, and watch them leave.  Alexander always felt guilty when he did that, but they were going on a date, and he knew he would be back.  

As they walked out, they stayed close to each other’s sides.  Alexander fought with himself the entire time over whether or not it was appropriate for him to take John’s hand in his own. His eyes would drop to John’s hand every now and then, but he kept them up for the most part.

 _It’s fine, Alexander, take his hand.  You’re on a date._ **But it isn’t fine. He’s just humoring you, he doesn’t want to be here** **_._ ** _Yes he does, you know that.  He wouldn’t have said yes otherwise. He likes you or he wouldn’t be with you._ **You know that isn’t true, Alexander.**

His chest was beginning to feel tight, and he had to force himself to control his breathing as the anxiety started nipping away at his mind. He should have brought Gil. He was a service dog, after all, he would be allowed in the theatre, and he would have something to do with his hands while he was walking rather than fidget relentlessly and try not to focus on John’s…

 **That’s the only reason he’s here, you know, the dog.** _That isn’t true, no, no, no, he’s here for you, Alexander. On a date with you.  Not your dog. You._ **As if you could be so lucky, John Laurens is too good for you.  He’ll tell you that himself here soon enough, and you know th--**

_Oh._

John had taken his hand.

He gave one of those sunshine smiles and all of Alexander’s worries melted.  That was for him. That was just for him, nobody else. He was making John Laurens’ smile. He was the recipient of something so wonderful, so ethereal.  John laced their fingers and squeezed his hand just a bit, then turned his attention back to the road they walked down.  Alexander’s heart could have leapt from his chest.  

John’s voice broke the silence after a few moments, and he looked to Alexander when he spoke. “So why _Civil War_ , of all the movies we could be going to see?”

“Are you not a superhero fan?” Alexander asked in turn. John laughed.

“No, no, I am. I just wanted to know. I assume you’re…” He hummed a bit.

“Team Cap. Duh.”  He chuckled a little and smiled.

“Go figure, Alex Hamilton is team patriot.”

“Oh, are you not?”

“Well, I mean, I sympathize with Stark, you know?”

Alexander’s eyes grew. “You’re joking, you have to be joking.  Stark’s response is childish.  Have you read the comic, do you know why he reacts how he does? He’s well within his right to think how he does, but that’s no reason to go off and do the shit that he does. He’s acting juvenile, and that’s putting it kindly, and he doesn’t even seem to give a damn about anything other than his own motives, even with everything that happens and leads him up to this point.”

“Woah there, Captain America, take a breath. I never said I was Team Iron Man.” John responded, raising his free hand in mock surrender.

Alexander blinked. “Then who…?”

“Team Bucky. Duh.”

Alexander laughed. “Team Bucky, huh? Good to know I have a Bucky coming into this with me.”  He nudged at John a bit, his smile returning full force.

“Damn right you do, Hamilton. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.” John squeezed his hand. Alexander caught the reference, and his cheeks flushed bright.

They went into the theatre, still hand in hand, and John paid for the tickets before Alexander could argue. So he beat John to buying their popcorn and drinks. It was a fair compromise, he thought.  

The movie was hands down one of the best dates Alexander had ever been on. John kept leaning closer to him and cracking jokes, and Alexander had to stifle his laughs more than a few times.  Alexander would always return the favor, and John wasn’t always fortunate enough to catch himself before he laughed. Before they were even out of the theatre, John had taken Alexander’s hand in his own again and started to smile at him, and they were soon on their way back to Alexander’s place.

Hand in hand.

Like a couple.

Alexander’s heart fluttered in his chest at the thought.  He would have to ask John about that soon, whether or not they were a couple.  

God, he hoped the answer would be yes.

But that question could wait. When they arrived, after greeting the excited dog at the door, Alexander decided that there was a more important question to ask.  He made his way to the liquor he had sitting out on his counter and smiled.

“Care for a drink?”

  
~

 

    John had taken Alex’s hand purely on impulse. They’d been walking side by side, and it had just seemed natural. John had glanced over at Alex, and seen the slight crease in between his brows.

 _Of course_ , he’d thought, feeling like an idiot for not realising it sooner. _The anxiety._

Gilbert hadn’t been there. Only John. And John hadn’t wanted to make a fuss; ask if Alex was all right, ask if he wanted to backtrack to get Gilbert.

So John had just taken his hand.

Needless to say, as soon as he’d done it, he’d thought to himself, _Shit, what if this is too forward? What if Alex didn’t want to take my hand? Should I have waited?_

But Alex hadn’t let go of his hand. John had given him a smile, and he’d smiled right back, the crease in his forehead smoothed out.

Okay. So maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

The movie was great. John loved superhero movies. He loved Bucky especially. And while some people grew irritated at his near-constant babbling on – which was something he just couldn’t help – Alex didn't seem to mind. In fact, he accidentally made John laugh out loud a few times with his own commentary. They received a few glares, but they were water off a duck’s back.

And when the movie was finished, John took Alex’s hand almost automatically, like his hand just couldn’t bare to be anywhere else but linked with Alex’s.

John took a moment to consider what that meant. In reality, he barely knew Alex, and Alex barely knew him. Heck, John knew Alex’s _dog_ better than he knew Alex.

But a moment was all he needed to think it over. He didn’t care what it meant. That would sort itself out soon enough. He was just glad that it was happening.

Gilbert was, of course, ecstatic to see them arrive. And then Alex had cracked open the liquor, and everything had just… settled in.

John massaged Gilbert’s ear absentmindedly, watching him as he dozed on the couch. The dog was acting as a kind of furry, lovable barrier in between John and Alex, cuddled up to both of them, but John couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by it. There he was, in the house of the boy he’d just been on a date with, some liquor in one hand and a dog in the other. How could he complain?

“The whole Steve-Sharon thing was a complete mess,” Alex said. It was a little out of the blue, but the movie was still on John’s mind as well, so it was hardly unexpected.

John hummed, smiling as Gilbert sighed. “Sharon could have been more than just a love interest. And she’s Peggy’s niece.”

“It was stupid!” Alex exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “It was so forced! There was _no_ chemistry whatsoever, and they just threw it in there just to be like, _Yep, Steve is definitely not in love with Bucky. No homos here, people_.”

John shrugged. “To be fair, at least they’d _tried_ to start setting it up in _Winter Soldier_. I mean, I’m all for Steve-Bucky, but if they wanted to go down the Steve-Sharon path, they should have at least given them some more scenes together. There could’ve been chemistry there, but we barely saw them interact.”

  “There was Peggy’s funeral,” Alex said with a snort. “Man, I don’t know about you, but, like, I think a funeral is _definitely_ the best place to make a move, don’t you agree?”

John laughed, making Gilbert stir, and Alex smiled.

Alex had the prettiest smile. John would make stupid jokes all day if it meant he was able to see Alex’s smile.

“At least it wasn’t as bad as Bruce and Natasha,” he said, and Alex spluttered into his drink.

“Fucking hell,” he said. “ _Nothing_ could be as bad as _that_.”

John was laughing so hard that his sides ached, and Alex was soon laughing along with him.

It wasn’t until later that they realised dinner had been forgotten. John only noticed when he puzzled over the fact that he felt quite light-headed and woozy when he hadn’t actually had that much to drink.

When he mentioned it offhandedly, Alex flew into something that was akin to a panic, but not quite. “Shit,” he blurted, scrambling to his feet, all but tossing his glass onto the coffee table. “Fuck, I am so sorry, John, I just completely forgot. I – I have something in the fridge. I can’t really cook, but I watched some videos. It’s chicken. Do you like chicken? I should’ve asked. I’m really sorry, you must be starving.”

He flew in a frantic whirlwind to the kitchen, and Gilbert dutifully followed. John trailed behind, not wanting Alex to feel smothered. “Alex,” he said gently. “Alex, it’s okay, it’s fine.”

Alex was pulling random things out of the fridge, babbling on about vegetables and sauce and a frypan. Gilbert went and sat by him, watching him carefully as he ran between the fridge and the kitchen bench. John glanced between the dog and its owner. Gilbert seemed to be on guard, but not too distressed. That was a good sign, right?

John stepped closer. “Alex. Alex, hey.” He went forward, and managed to lay a hand on Alex’s arm. Alex stopped, and glanced at him. His face was flushed from the alcohol.

“This is really rude, John, I’m sorry,” he said with an awkward laugh. “I’m a terrible host.”

John put his other hand on Alex’s other arm, anchoring him to the ground. “No, you’re not,” he said soothingly. “It’s fine; I forgot, too. We can just order pizza.”

Alex’s brow creased. “But that’s not a proper dinner for a date.”

“It is, because we’re on a date and we can eat it. Let’s just go and sit back down. Do you have any snacks in the meantime?”

Alex nodded and went to the pantry, pulling out a packet of chips. “Doritos?”

“Sounds perfect,” John said with a smile. He started gathering up the things Alex had put on the kitchen bench. “C’mon, we can have a nice, homemade meal next time.”

Alex paused. “Next time?”

John felt his heart flutter with nerves. “Um, yeah,” he said unsurely. “I mean, if you want a next time.”

And one of those pretty smiles bloomed on Alex’s face. “Yeah,” he said, and John’s heart was fluttering for a whole other reason. “Yeah, a next time sounds nice.”

They decided on good old margherita pizza, and by the time it arrived, Alex had fully calmed down, and Gilbert was back to snoozing (on Alex’s other side, which allowed for Alex and John to sit a lot closer than before).

John was more than a little tipsy. He almost tripped over himself as he made his way to the front door to get the pizza.

That being said, he wasn’t about to do something stupid, like try to sleep with Alex. As nice as that thought was – what with Alex’s smile and his laughs and his eyes and his hair and his lips and his hands and his everything – the notion of jeopardising the relationship before it had even begun was enough of a deterrent.

The pizza was delicious, and they drank water with it instead of more alcohol. John didn’t know whose idea it was, but they both agreed it was a good one.

John also didn’t know whose idea it was to get some music playing, but there he and Alex were, comparing their Spotify playlists. They had somewhat similar tastes in music - a lot of what Alex listened to John had never heard of before, but it seemed to be along the same lines of genre as some of his music. Alex insisted that John played one of his playlists; and so, ‘chill’ music it was.

The conversation flowed easily, until it was interrupted by Alex sitting up abruptly - startling Gilbert from his dozing - and exclaiming, “You like this song?” 

John blinked, taking a moment to register Alex’s sudden movement, his question, and then the song that was playing. _Banana Pancakes_ by Jack Johnson. He smiled. “Yeah, I’ve loved this song for ages. You like it too?” 

“ _Like_ it? I _love_ it.” Alex sat back with a contented sigh and a big smile, closing his eyes, humming along to the music. John watched him, knowing that he was beaming like an idiot, but unable to care. 

As if Alex could get any more perfect.

As the song ended, moving onto another one, Alex opened his eyes, rolling his head to the side to look at John. “I love that song,” he said again, as if that wasn’t obvious. 

John laughed. “Yeah. Me too.”

Alex sat up again and focused back on his pizza, picking at the crust, suddenly quiet. “So,” he said, not really looking at John. “Um. Are… Can I ask a question?”

John took a bite of pizza. “Sure,” he said around his mouthful.

Alex took a breath, his hand straying to Gilbert’s side, stroking his fur. “What… Are we a… What is this, exactly?”

John frowned. “What do you mean? Like, us?”

Alex shrugged. “Yeah. Y’know. Are we dating, are we – is it too early to say anything, or…?”

John put down his pizza. “I don’t know,” he said, and he honestly didn’t. He knew what _he_ wanted – dating was most definitely on the table – but he couldn’t speak for Alex. “What do you want?”

Alex shrugged again. “You.” He flushed red. “I don’t mean – well, I mean, I – I like you, John, and I think you’re pretty great and so does my dog, so I just mean that I’d – I’d like to see you again, and maybe we could call that dating, if you want. If – If you’d be cool with that. I mean, we don’t have to. If you don’t want to. That’s fine too.”

“Dating sounds nice,” John said, ducking his head to hide his smile.

Alex lit up. “Yeah?” His hand twitched, like it wanted to reach over but couldn’t, so John took the initiative, linking their fingers together.

John smiled. “Yeah.”

John was loathe to go home at the end of the night. He felt warm, not just from the liquor but from being around Alex as well, and the thought of curling up in bed with his date and his date’s dog sounded far more appealing than going home, even if going home meant seeing his tortoise.

“Text me,” Alex said as they both hovered at the front door. John had already said goodbye to Gilbert, who’d decided it wasn’t worth the effort getting off the couch.

John nodded. “Definitely. We’ll arrange next time.”

Alex smiled, a little goofily. He couldn’t take his alcohol as well as John could, and even then, John was a lightweight. “Good. Next time will be a great time.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” John said, and he was. He really was.

Alex leant forward and kissed John on the cheek before John could react, and then grinned. “I like your freckles,” he said.

John chuckled. “Thank you, Alex.”

“That’s okay.”

“And I like you.”

Alex blushed. “I like you too. Go now, or I’m gonna do something stupid.”

John laughed, and opened the door, stepping out into the crisp night air. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, and Alex nodded.

“G’night, John.”

“Night, Alex.” And John started on his walk home, wanting nothing more than to hurry back and stay with Alex and Gilbert forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (edit)  
> Krys here! Wanted to put it here,,, I wrote a prologue fic to Lost and Found, a little bonding with Eliza and Alex, if anyone is interested! :)  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/7438941


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> allo-allo-allo it's me sunken_ships and i am back from europe and me and paperthinrevolutionary are back to writing! this chapter was actually written just before i left, and we'll get working on the next one. it is literally 2:10am rn and i just got back from like clubbing but then i remembered that i said i'd upload this so HERE IT IS. thank u everyone for sticking with us and being so patient, you guys are the best, honestly. hope you like it, i don't really remember writing it bc it was so long ago (oops lmao sorry) but don't worry, i've combed through it for typos. see y'all soon! xx

A few weeks had passed since their first real date, and they had gone on quite a few more.  Alexander wasn’t nearly as nervous to hold onto John’s hand anymore, and he was proudly introducing John to everyone he could as his darling Laurens, his boyfriend.  He could go on and on for hours about him. On more than one occasion, they had fallen asleep together during a movie, curled up on one of their sofas with Gilbert sprawled over the two of them.  Alexander thought he got a restful night’s sleep with Gilbert alone, but he had never slept so well as he did when he was snuggled up to John, holding him tight and focusing on the rise and fall of his chest.  It was brilliant.  Of course, their contact hadn’t escalated much beyond that. John would always kiss his forehead before leaving, and Alexander would kiss his cheek in return, but they were pretty G-rated as far as their contact went. 

 

When Alexander came over to John’s one night, he had a few things on his mind.  While he was at work that morning, Angelica had invited him over, saying he needed to bring John along. She and her sister Eliza had just settled into a new place, and they needed a house warming party.  He was eager to have John meet Angelica and Eliza.  He wondered if Peggy would be there, it had been a while since he had seen her, and he was sure that she and John would get along with one another.  

 

John was eager to join him for the Schuyler gathering, and that weekend, they found themselves showing up at a rather nice place outside of the city, with, much to Gilbert’s delight, a fenced in backyard.  They left the back door open for him to come and go freely through the evening. 

 

Eliza, as Alexander expected, absolutely  _ loved  _ John. They bonded almost immediately over some weird indie band that Eliza had slipped into one of Angelica’s playlists, leaving Alexander and the eldest Schuyler alone to talk about whatever they wanted.  They broke their conversation here and there to watch John and Eliza, hand in hand and dancing through the large kitchen, singing along loudly to the song and laughing.  Angelica gave a soft, content sigh, and Alexander looked at the two with the stars in his eyes.  He loved that laugh, he loved that smile… God, he wouldn’t say it yet, but he loved John…. 

 

He was snapped out of his gushy thoughts when the front door swung open and slammed shut again, then the youngest Schuyler stood in the doorway. “What’s up, fuckers!” 

 

“Peggy!” The sisters and Alexander chimed, raising their glasses.  After a second, a very confused voice chimed in with the name as well. 

 

“Peggy?” John raised a brow. 

 

“ _ Laurens? _ ” 

 

The two grinned at each other, and John had soon lifted Peggy up, spinning her around and ruffling her hair once she was set back down. 

 

“You two know each other?” Alexander asked, looking at the equally confused sisters. 

 

“Yeah, we work together!” Peggy laughed, patting his shoulder and grinning brightly. 

 

“Tequila Schuyler, the best damn nurse in the state!” John said, tone matter-of-fact and smile lighting the room. 

 

Okay, now Alexander was just lost. “Tequila?” 

 

“Don’t you da—” Peggy tried, but she was beaten to the punch by Angelica. 

 

“Her full name, Margarita,” she said, causing Peggy to pout.  

 

Alexander stifled a laugh, but Eliza didn’t manage. “It’s been years since I’ve heard someone call you Tequila.” Eliza said, poking at the youngest one, making her squeal and swat her sister away.  

 

“Since college, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “I tried to kill the nickname, can you blame me?” 

 

“Until she challenged me to shots after I got the job. For such a small thing, she could drink my ass under the table. I didn’t think someone that small could hold that much tequila in her system.” John added, making Peggy beam with pride.  “I didn’t even know her full name until later. It was a happy coincidence.”

 

The party carried on now that everyone was there, the elder Schuylers still grilling John here and there to learn more about him.  It seemed more like Alexander was one of them, rather than a friend, and the joke of “Honorary Schuyler” had been thrown around quite a bit that evening.

 

While they ate their dinners, lovingly prepared by Angelica and (mostly) Eliza, Gilbert made his rounds and got bits of food from whoever he could.  Everyone gave him something, once Alexander had given them his approval, and he was soon out back again, sniffing everything and just enjoying himself.  Alexander loved it. The group was soon in the living room, mixed drinks in hand. Jokes flew amongst them, and the spirits were high.  It was lovely, and it felt like home already.  

 

After a while, one of them had suggested playing games.  After a round of Never Have I Ever that Eliza was out of a little too soon, it was time for Peggy’s suggestion. Peggy’s idea, of course, had been Truth or Dare. 

 

They had learned about a few bad breakups that Angelica had when Peggy demanded her truths, and they learned about the cute new girl that Eliza had found herself with here and there. Alexander had heard tell of her occasionally, but now he had a name to attach to her,  _ Maria Reynolds _ . Peggy had dared John to do some stupid dance, leaving Alexander nearly rolling with laughter. The girls didn’t ever really bring up any truths for Alexander, he was a pretty open book to them at all times. John was too busy to pry into any of Alexander’s business at that point, because he and Peggy had somehow ended up in a competition to see who could make who do the most embarrassing thing.  The other Schuyler girls and Alexander watched with bright smiles and laughter, until they were snapped back to reality by Peggy bouncing up and down, pointing at John.

 

“I’ve got you, Laurens!” Alexander raised a brow and looked at the youngest Schuyler sister, who seemed to have something up her sleeve.  

 

“Gimme your best shot, Schuyler,” John retorted, straightening his shirt from the last dare. She leaned closer to him, nearly giving a victory dance. She must have been proud of the idea, Alexander noted, but he leaned back into his seat and took a sip of his drink, glancing to the elder Schuylers, who looked just as confused as he did. 

 

“John Laurens, I dare you to kiss Alexander.”

 

~

 

John was eager to meet Alex’s friends. Alex talked about them constantly, regaling great tales of their adventures - or misadventures, in a few cases - and told John  _ You’re gonna love them _ , or vice versa, multiple times a day.

 

But he was nervous, too. Understandably. He really, really liked Alex, so of course he wanted to fit in with the group. Not that he thought he’d be shunned or excluded in any way - Angie, Eliza and Peggs, as Alex called them, sounded lovely, and any friend of Alex’s had to be great company - but the nerves were still there.

 

He quickly realised, on the day of the gathering, that he had nothing to worry about.

 

Angie - Angelica - and her younger sister Eliza were just as gorgeous as Alex had set them up to be. Angelica had a fierce wit and take-no-shit attitude that bounced off Alex’s sharp tongue; watching the pair of them banter was like watching the most intense game of tennis John had ever seen. And Eliza… Well, Eliza was just an utter angel. A smile like homemade brownies just out of the oven and a laugh like sunshine glittering on the ocean on a summer’s afternoon. She and John clicked instantly.

 

And then the speakers began to play  _ No One Needs to Know _ by The Jungle Giants, and John lit up. “Wait,” he said to Eliza, “does Angelica like The Jungle Giants?”

 

She giggled, shaking her head, beaming. “No,  _ I _ like The Jungle Giants,” she said. “I added it to Angie’s playlist when she wasn’t looking. Do you know them?”

 

“I love them!” John exclaimed.

 

“So do I!” Eliza said, and singing along at the top of their lungs. Eliza took John’s hands, and together they danced around the kitchen.

 

John felt like he’d known Eliza his whole life. Or maybe they’d been best friends in a past life. Either way, John was very glad that he’d been able to meet her.

 

And then the door slammed open, and in stomped a whirlwind of a woman in a bright yellow dress. “What’s up, fuckers!” she cried.

 

“Peggy!” Eliza said happily, as did Angelica.

 

It was a miracle John’s mouth wasn’t hanging open in shock.

 

“Peggy?” he repeated, stunned. Right.  _ Peggs _ . _ Peggy _ . He should’ve made the connection sooner.

 

Peggy looked just as baffled. “ _ Laurens _ ?”

 

John surged forward just as Peggy threw her arms out wide, and John swept her off her feet in a hug, spinning her around. He set her down, the both of them laughing, and John ruffled her hair. Peggy punched him in the arm in return.

 

“You two know each other?” Alex said. Peggy’s sisters were staring at them in surprise.

 

“Yeah, we work together!” Peggy said with a laugh, and patted John’s shoulder.

 

“Tequila Schuyler, the best damn nurse in the state!” John said.

 

John soon found out that Peggy was also the biggest damn eater in the state. When dinner arrived, thanks to Angelica and Eliza (although Eliza tried to take more credit than Angelica said she was due), John couldn’t help but marvel at how much Peggy could stuff in her mouth.

 

_ Note to self _ , he thought, grinning.  _ Never compete against Peggy in a drinking contest,  _ or _ an eating contest _ .

 

After dinner came the drinking games. Eliza was swiftly shot down in Never Have I Ever, and then came Truth or Dare.

 

John had never been a huge fan of Truth or Dare - he was always terrible at trying to think of questions or dares - and he hadn’t played it since college. But with Alex and the Schuyler sisters, John had wondered what he’d ever disliked about the game in the first place.

 

And then it was Peggy’s turn to dare John. In regards to both Peggy and John, the question of ‘truth or dare’ had become pointless - both of them chose dare each time, and the dares had become more and more ridiculous each turn.

 

John shifted position, getting ready. “Gimme your best shot, Schuyler,” he said with a smirk.

 

Peggy leant in close, and John saw a wicked glint in her eye. He sat back in his seat, sipping his drink, trying to be as obnoxiously cocky as possible.

 

“John Laurens,” Peggy said, “I dare you to kiss Alexander.”

 

John paused. The pause dragged out into a longer pause. The longer pause dragged out into what could only be called as John turning into some kind of statue.

 

“Um,” he said.

 

“Hey, Peggy,” Angelica said, frowning a little, “that’s not fair.”

 

“Don’t push them into doing something they don’t want to,” Eliza added.

 

John’s eyes flicked over to Alex, on the other end of the couch, who was just staring at John. God, he was beautiful.

 

‘Don’t  _ want _ to’? John would  _ love _ to.

 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Alex beat him to it. “It’s okay,” he said. He flushed red, glancing away. “I mean, y’know. If John…”

 

“Okay,” John blurted.

 

Peggy hooted, throwing her fists up in the air. “Yes!”

 

“John, you don’t have to,” Eliza said.

 

John leant over to Alex and pressed a swift kiss to his lips, and then drew back. It was hardly a kiss, a peck if anything. John bit his lip and looked away, laughing a little. “That was pathetic,” he murmured.

 

“Yay, good job,” Peggy said, clapping. “Okay, now your turn, John.”

 

John, trying to ignore how hot his face felt, cleared his throat and sat back. “Uh, yep.” His chest felt a little tight, not helped by the weight of Alex’s gaze on his face and the slightly unsure, almost pitying looks on Angelica and Eliza’s.

 

The game took a minute or two to regain momentum. Alex was quieter than before, and it made John’s pulse jump with nerves, but the others seemed to have moved on. Gilbert sat by his feet at one point, and he rubbed the dog’s side with his foot.

 

Eliza decreed, later on, that Alex and John were far too inebriated to make the journey home, and invited them to stay. “What about me?” Peggy cried.

 

Angelica rolled her eyes. “Of course you can stay too, Peggy.”

 

Peggy grinned. “Good.”

 

Peggy bunked in with Eliza, and John and Alex (and Gilbert) were given the guest room. Angelica made everyone drink a glass of water before bed, and then John and Alex were alone, save for Gilbert.

 

“Uh, is it okay if I just sleep in my boxers?” John said. “I don’t really want to wear jeans or this nice shirt…”

 

Alex shrugged. “Yeah, no, that’s… I’ll be doing the same thing, so.”

 

John nodded. “Right, yeah.”

 

They both hesitated undressing, instead just standing there.

 

“I have to pee,” John said suddenly, and ducked into the guest bathroom. He wished he had a toothbrush.

 

When he exited the bathroom, Alex was nowhere to be seen. John started stripping to his boxers, folding his jeans and shirt and putting them in a neat pile. It wasn’t his style, but he was a guest, after all. And he didn’t really want his clothes being all crumpled in the morning, if he could help it.

 

Alex returned, and blinked in surprise at John’s semi-nakedness. He wordlessly held out a tube of toothpaste.

 

John thanked him with a chuckle and took the tube, squeezing some toothpaste onto his finger and smearing it onto his teeth. Alex disappeared out the door again, presumably to return the tube. John went to the bathroom and rinsed.

 

When Alex returned once again, his hair was tied up in a ponytail, as he liked to do when he slept. He faced away from John to undress. John, of course, couldn’t help but stare a little, and Alex’s soft waistline and slight stretch marks. John’s back was covered in stretch marks from when he’d had his growth spurt and his shoulders had broadened, like little lightning strikes peppering his skin. Alex’s were at his hips. John could count on his hand the number of times he’d seen Alex with his shirt off - mostly when he was changing into his pyjamas - and he often found himself longing to run his fingers over the scars.

 

He was snapped from his thoughts when Alex turned around again. He wouldn’t look at John, and went and sat on the bed, his hand going to Gilbert.

 

John wanted to slap himself. He’d fucked everything up. It was all over, red rover. Time to throw in the fucking towel, because it had all turned to shit, and it was all his fault.

 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

 

Alex looked up at him.

 

“About before,” John added.

 

Alex shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too.”

 

John nodded to himself. This wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation he’d wanted to have after their first kiss. “I shouldn’t have rushed things.”

 

“I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

 

“If you weren’t comfortable- Wait, what?”

 

Alex blinked at him. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into it. You didn’t have to do it because Peggy dared you and because I said it was okay. I’m sorry.”

 

John laughed, a short, disbelieving laugh. “No,  _ I’m _ sorry about pressuring  _ you _ . I didn’t even ask, I just…”

 

Alex frowned. “But I said it was okay. And you barely kissed me. I thought…”

 

“I was just nervous,” John said. “And you were so quiet afterwards.”

 

“I thought I’d fucked things up.”

 

“I thought  _ I’d _ fucked things up.”

 

There was a beat, and then John and Alex burst out laughing, making Gilbert jerk awake. Alex quickly apologised to his dog, and Gilbert lay down again with a heavy sigh.

 

John looked down at his hands. “We could try again?” he said softly, risking a glance at Alex.

 

Alex stood up and made his way over, a pleased smile on his lips. “I’d be okay with that.”

 

John shuffled closer, struggling to control his smile, and Alex leant forward, pressing his lips to John’s.

 

Alex tasted mostly of mint toothpaste, and a little of alcohol. His lips were slightly chapped, but they were gentle. John reached for Alex’s hands, and their fingers linked together.

 

It wasn’t a long kiss. There weren’t fireworks, and no choir of angels descended from the Heavens. It just was. And it was right.

 

John and Alex grinned at each other. “That was way better,” John said, and Alex nodded in agreement, chuckling.

 

Alex pressed a kiss to John’s cheek. “Come on. Bed time.”

  
They curled up in bed, Gilbert at their feet, and in two minutes flat, they were out like a light.


	10. Chapter 10

Last night had been perfect. It had been absolutely perfect down to the very last detail. John and Alex slept close to one another all throughout the evening, and Alexander had never felt safer. 

That is, until he woke up and had forgotten in his haze what had happened the previous evening. All he knew was that somebody was touching him, and that the only ‘person’ he was used to sleeping with was a seventy some-odd pound poodle. 

His heart was racing as he felt the figure behind him shift, pull him closer, and finally his eyes shot open. 

Oh, _fuck_ this wasn’t his room. 

This wasn’t his house. 

Where was he. Who was this, where was Gilbert, oh _god_ what the hell was going on?

His breathing began to grow shallow, and his mind was racing with every terrible possibility that could explain the current situation. None of them seemed good. 

His mind had completely forgotten the positive. 

In his hungover and panicked state, Alex couldn’t even fathom that he could be with John. 

His breathing was labored by then, shallow and sharp as he tried to regain it, but it just wasn’t working. Tears sprung to his eyes, beginning to leak down his cheeks, but he tried to keep it as silent as he could. He didn’t know who he could be with, or what they could do when they noticed he was awake. 

He gripped the pillow he held on to even tighter, nails nearly tearing the pillowcase. 

 

 _Just breathe, Alexander. Deep breaths._ He reminded himself, though he heard it in Eliza’s voice. Just like always, Eliza would be the one to bring him back to Earth. 

_Okay, Alexander. In. One, two, three, four, five. Okay. Hold. Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco... Out. Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix…_

He repeated this to himself a few more times. The tears continued their steady trail down his face, but his breathing was regular again, until he felt the figure shift behind him, put their arm around his waist _pull him closer_...

Alex’s body began to tremble, and his breaths became choppy again. All that for nothing until he finally forced himself out of bed, his entire body shaking, and he collapsed to the floor. 

Gilbert was by his side immediately, nosing at his face and licking the tears off his cheeks, when he heard the bed creak and he finally heard the person speak. 

“Alex, are you okay?” 

Everything came back to him and hit him like a freight train. That voice… It was so gentle. What the hell? 

“Alexander, what’s wrong?” 

_Oh god._

_“John.”_

~~

John loved the warmth. He loved the summer sun and hot chocolate and showers that were hot enough to make his skin flush with red blotches and the bathroom mirror fog. So it was no surprise that he loved having another warm body pressed against his as he slept.

Then the warm body was gone, and John was awoken by a thump. He cracked his eyes open, taking a moment to register what had happened, and smiled to himself, rubbing his eye. It was so _Alex_ to fall out of bed in the middle of the night. “Alex, are you okay?” he mumbled blearily.

There was no response, and John’s smile dropped. It was so _not_ Alex to be silent. John saw Gilbert’s back, just a sliver of it from where he lay, and his heart skipped, expecting the worst. “Alexander, what’s wrong?”

There was a shaky breath, and then Alex’s voice: “John.”

John was up and out of bed immediately. “Alex? Alex, are you-” He stopped himself. The barrage of words wouldn’t help.

Instead, he carefully crouched down in front of Alex’s trembling body. Gilbert had laid down, licking all over Alex’s face firmly and with intention, and Alex had one hand feebly curled around his dog’s leg, his lips moving minutely, whispering something to himself. John couldn’t hear what.

John didn’t know whether it would be safe to touch Alex, so he sat cross-legged behind Gilbert. Still close, but with a barrier in between. He took a breath in. “Alex?” he said softly.

Alex’s eyes darted to him, and his lips stopped moving. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

John shook his head. “No. No, Alex, don’t apologise. Just… I know it’s probably a stupid question, but are… are you… How are you feeling?”

Alex breathed out sharply, and John guessed it was some kind of humourless laugh. “Been better.”

John felt helpless. He reached out and stroked Gilbert’s back. “You just, um, lie there,” he said, in a way that he hoped was soothing. He covered his face with his hands, hanging his heads. “That was horrible,” he mumbled. He lifted his head again. He was a medical professional, damn it. _Get your head in the game, Laurens_. “Okay.” He sighed. “Alexander, do you need to go to hospital?”

Alex shook his head.

John nodded. “Are you able to move?”

Alex nodded a little. “In a minute,” he said softly.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

Alex’s face screwed up, and he ducked his head. “I…”

John held up his hands. “No, that’s okay. I won’t touch you. Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Alex blurted.

John nodded again. “Okay,” he said gently. “Okay. That’s okay, Alex. You lie there as long as you need.”

And so Alex lay, and Gilbert lay, and John sat, all in silence. John absentmindedly stroked down Gilbert’s fur, and Gilbert, satisfied that Alex had gotten through the worst of it, just stayed by Alex’s side. Alex’s thumb brushed back and forth against Gilbert’s leg. After a short time, he shifted, so he was lying on his side. John made no comment. He thought it would be best not to.

John didn’t know how long it had been before he found himself gradually drifting off, jolting awake every few seconds and shaking his head to stop himself from collapsing onto Alex and his dog. He hesitated, wondering if it would be too much to ask if they could perhaps migrate to the bed. He was still debating it when Alex spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

John smiled, a little relieved. “Alex, you don’t have to apologise. It wasn’t your fault.”

Alex frowned, not looking at John. “No, I just… I mean, I woke up, and I felt you there, with your arms around me, and I’m not used to that, and I wasn’t in my house and I couldn’t see Gilbert and I was turned away from you so I couldn’t see _you_ , and I just… I panicked. I freaked. I’m sorry.”

John felt his heart squeeze, although he wasn’t quite sure why. Was it because he was hurt that waking up next to him caused Alex to fly into a panic attack? Was it because he felt guilty for causing Alex to feel frightened? Was it because he wanted nothing more than for Alex just to be okay? He didn’t know. “Alex, please, don’t be sorry. Please.”

Alex looked up at him then. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“You can’t promise something like that.” John sighed. “Alex, I want what’s best for you. And if you don’t feel safe sleeping in a bed with me, please don’t feel that you have to, just to, I don’t know, appease me. I’m not going to run off.”

Alex shook his head. “No, I do feel safe, John. I do. It was just a one-off thing. I don’t… I’ve never…” He cut himself off with a yawn.

John smiled. “Maybe we should talk this over in the morning. Do you want me to go sleep on the couch?”

“John, no,” Alex said, slowly sitting up. Gilbert stirred. “Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t just say that because-”

“I’m not just saying it.” Alex gave him a serious look. “I mean it. I’m okay now. I’ll be fine.”

John hesitated. “Will you tell me if you’re not?” he asked. “Please?”

Alex nodded, and then held out his hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s sleep.”

The two stood up, and climbed back into bed. John made sure to keep his distance, but then Alex rolled over to face him, and pulled him close. John gently put an arm around his waist, and Alex pressed a kiss to John’s collarbone. “G’night.”

John allowed himself to settle. “Night, Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! krys here! Sorry for the hiatus, it still isn't completely over. the two of us have been very busy in our respective lives, but we're working slowly but surely on finishing up this fic. 
> 
> Hopefully we will have another chapter up soon. 
> 
> Thank you all for the kind words and encouragements! It means so much to both of us! 
> 
> until next time,  
> -krys


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back again! "So soon after the last chapter?" you might say in absolute shock. "But how is this possible?" Well, somehow it is, and so here we are. Think of this as the 'final chapter', I guess - the next one is the epilogue. Thanks so much to everyone for reading, we really do appreciate all of you.  
> Ingrid xx

After that night, things seemed to go smoothly. John and Alex were making progress for sure. Alex had woken up in a fit a few times, but calmed immediately with the help of Gilbert, and John squeezing his hand, pulling him closer.  It was a comfort he hadn’t known since his childhood, since his mother would cradle him close through his nightmares. Having John there to do the same for him was… Well… God, it was exactly what he needed, really. He could finally rest easy. 

 

Between John and Gilbert, it was heaven. An entirely different world, and honestly, an entirely different Alexander. 

 

Alex didn’t notice that himself, of course. Rather, his boss did. 

 

He was damn near glowing, sitting at his desk and tapping away at his laptop, flipping between documents scattered all over the table. He paused every now and then to pet Gilbert, who had his face rested against Alex’s thigh, and would give an exasperated sigh (it must be such a hard life) whenever Alex would stop paying attention to him. 

 

“I know, bud. I know. I have to finish this article though,” he said softly, scratching behind his ears. The pup grumbled a little and pressed his head further into Alex’s hand. His tail thwacked against the floor of the office, giving a steady and rhythmic _thnk_ , _thnk_ , _thnk_ in the silence. 

 

Since the incident before, losing Gilbert and all, Washington had changed the policy for Alex, and he was allowed to bring Gilbert into the office every day, rather than just a couple days a week. It was nice, really nice. 

 

He continued tapping away at his computer, interrupted only when Washington approached, and he heard Gilbert start dancing on his front paws, whining until the older man crouched down and pet his head, scratched behind his ears, kissed the top of his head. Gilbert sat on his haunches and put his paws on Washington’s shoulders so he could kiss his face, tail still wagging.  

 

“Hello, sir.” Alex smiled and turned away from his computer, tapping Gilbert’s snout to get him to back down. 

 

“He’s fine, son. Don’t worry,” Washington assured through the onslaught of affection from the over-excited pup. “It’s nice having him here. Changes the entire energy in the office.” 

 

Alex snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, right? Even Jefferson has been nicer.” He rolled his eyes. “Thank you so much for this.” He relaxed a little bit, reaching down to pet behind the dog’s ears as well. He was snuffling softly and whining, but happy. 

 

“Of course, Alexander. We’re happy to have him, and it’s… It’s wonderful seeing you this happy. Your work has improved tenfold since he’s been here, and… Well, I actually came to talk to you about that.” Washington finally stood, causing Alex to cock his head.

 

“Sir?”

 

“Your work has improved,” he said again, a smile crossing over his lips. “And with that… I’ve been thinking more… I’m promoting you.”

 

“Sir!” he gasped, eyes lighting up like the sun. 

 

Holy shit.

 

“To my right-hand man. My assistant. You can continue writing articles, of course, I know you will anyway, and we’ll pay you for those on a freelance salary, on top of your promotion raise.” 

 

Alex could have cried. “Sir, this is amazing, thank you so much!” he gasped, standing as well and launching towards Washington before he could stop himself, wrapping tightly around him. 

 

Washington laughed and patted his back, giving a sincere smile. “You’ll have the office next to mine now, we can begin moving in and setting up your things tomorrow, okay? Finish up your work for tonight, Alexander, and head home when you finish this article. Go celebrate. You’ve earned it.” 

 

“Yes, yes! Of course, sir! Thank you so much!” 

 

He grinned and bounced on his heels when George walked out, then fell to a sitting position beside Gilbert, hugging the dog, too. “Did you hear that? We’re moving up in the world, Gil!”

 

God, he couldn’t wait to tell John….

 

~~

 

“He  _ what _ ?”

 

“He gave me a promotion!” Alex cried, throwing his arms out wide. Gilbert’s tail was whipping from side to side as fast as it could go, and he was watching his human intently, hopping from foot to foot with excitement.

 

John cheered and swept Alex up into a tight hug. “Alex, that’s wonderful!”

 

Alex laughed happily, and pulled back to press a firm kiss to John’s lips. “I love you.”

 

John’s breath caught, and he saw Alex’s face fall and his eyes go wide.

 

John stopped him before he could apologise his way out of it. “I love you too.”

 

Alex broke out into a broad smile that was so full of disbelief and hope that John wanted just to clutch Alex close and never let him go. “You do?”

 

“Of course.” John kissed him again. “With all my heart.” Another kiss.

 

Alex beamed and gave John a kiss of his own, loving and deep. Gilbert whined and pawed at Alex’s leg.

 

Alex and John broke apart, laughing. “Oh yes, and I love you too,” John cooed, crouching down to smother Gilbert with love. “I do, I promise.”

 

“I have to call the girls,” Alex said suddenly, and pulled his phone out from his back pocket. “And- oh man, I wonder if Jefferson knows yet? He’s gonna be so damn pissed-”

 

John rose and put a hand over Alex’s phone. “Maybe don’t go and brag about it to Jefferson. Do you even have his number?”

 

“Are you that surprised?”

 

John thought about it. “Not really.”

 

“Okay, fine, I won’t tell Jefferson. I’ll let  _ Washington _ tell him. That’ll be even better. Because then Jefferson will  _ know _ that I didn’t even bother wasting my time  _ thinking _ about telling him, and he had to find out through our  _ boss _ , so he’s no better than the rest of-”

 

John put a hand on Alex’s chest. “Alex, honey, sweetie pie, sugar plum, you need to stop.”

 

Alex rolled his eyes, but it held no venom. “At least let me call the girls.”

 

“I encourage you to.” John gave him a peck on the lips and headed towards the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner?” he called over his shoulder. “Oh, speaking of which, we should have a celebratory dinner with the girls. This weekend? Friday night?”

 

“I’ll ask when they’re free,” Alex called back. “Can you make that tuna pasta I like? You know the one?”

 

John opened the fridge and peered in. “Yep. I’ll just have to duck up to the end of the street.”

 

He made a mental list of the ingredients he needed to buy, and closed the fridge, heading back out to the living room. Alex was on the phone. “Could you take Gilbert?” he stage-whispered, tilting the phone away from his mouth. His focus was snapped back to the phone, and he grinned. “Angie! Hi! How are you? Is Eliza there?”

 

John nodded. “Can you check on General?” he whispered, and Alex nodded, giving him the thumbs up. “And tell them I say hi.”

 

Alex continued his conversation, and John fetched Gilbert’s leash. Gilbert started wriggling in excitement, and John made a happy face at him as he leant down to clip the leash to Gilbert’s collar.

 

John ducked over to Alex once more to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you.”

 

Alex looked momentarily stunned, and then he covered the phone’s speaker with his hand, smiling. “I love you too.”

 

John let Gilbert drag him out of the house, and the two of them walked down the street. Life was good.


	12. Epilogue

**ONE YEAR LATER…**

Alex set the final box down, standing and stretching his back. He let out a groan and knit his brow, wiping away a bead of sweat that was dripping down his temple. This was so surreal. After a little over a year of dating, John and Alex had decided that it was time, and, well… 

There they were. Moving in together outside of the city in a small house near Angelica. 

Moving in with the white picket fence and the little yard. 

Moving into domesticity beyond anything they ever expected. 

Neither one of them had ever been this happy before. The feeling was beyond words. 

John was slipping in right behind him, almost immediately took the opportunity to wrap around Alex from behind, kiss the side of his neck. Gilbert was right at John’s heel, nosing at Alex’s thigh once they were side by side. Alex reached down and scratched behind his ears, grinning brightly himself. 

“I can’t believe we actually did this.” He said softly, turning in John’s arms. 

John smiled and rubbed their noses together before he pecked Alex’s lips over and over, between his words as well. “I’m glad we did, though. When should we invite the Schuylers over?” He hummed, finally breaking away to set down his backpack on the stack of boxes. 

“When we have at least the living room unpacked?” Alex chuckled a bit, leaned into every single kiss that he could before John pulled away.

“Yeah, true. Do we still wanna keep General in here?” John questioned glancing at the small and rather angry turtle. 

“Better than the kitchen.” He hummed, moving over to get General’s tank off the ground, onto the pedestal that they brought in for him. The turtle barely budged, just putting forth the effort to peek out of his shell at John, damn near squinting at him and, John would swear, frowning at him. The poor old guy had never much been a fan of moving. “It’s okay, fella. You’re settled now. We’re gonna be here for a long time.” He promised the little turtle. General responded by tucking away completely in his shell again. 

Oh well, he thought. It would take some time. 

Alex chuckled a little bit and shrugged when John turned back to him. John laughed and shrugged as well. “I don’t know what I expected.” 

“Not everyone can be as happy about everything as Gil.” Alex responded with a grin, looking to the dog who was already scratching at the door to go explore his new yard. 

John went to let him out, and Alex followed, leaning in the doorway while the couple watched the dog—their dog—running around the yard, sniffing everything and wagging his tail at mock seven. 

It was hard to believe how all of this had started, really. Hard to believe that the near-loss of that little pup was what started everything. Alex getting his puppy back had lead to the best relationship he had ever had, lead to moving into the dream home he never knew he wanted… Alex was walking on cloud nine if he was going to be completely honest with himself. 

Life had never been better.

He had never been so in love, and he never wanted this feeling to go away. 

Alex leaned against John, getting on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, and John returned it to his forehead. 

“Thank you so much for doing this with me, Alex.” John mumbled against his ear, nose burying itself into Alex’s hair. 

Alex just smiled and nosed at him. “I wouldn't want any different. Thank you for letting me. It means the world being here with you.. I can’t believe this is our house. _Our_ house. It doesn’t even seem real.” He laughed lightly and pressed his face against John’s neck, kissing it a few times here and there. “It’s amazing. It’s unreal.” 

John just laughed, pulling Alex away so he could dip him down and kiss him sweetly. It wasn’t long before Gilbert decided to jump up and lick both of their cheeks, sending the couple toppling to the ground.

In that moment, life was perfect. 

They never wanted it any other way. 

~~

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, y'all! there was a miscommunication between myself and ingrid, and we thought that this had already been posted. so sorry for the delay!
> 
> with this, lost and found is complete! we hope that you enjoyed it, it's been quite a fun ride! 
> 
> with love,  
> -krys
> 
>  
> 
> hey hey! thanks so much to everyone who's read this, whether you're a (VERY patient) reader from the beginning, or someone who's just come across this today. you're the best <3
> 
> -ingrid

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos mean the world to us, so let us know what you think <3  
> Until next time! <3


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